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Wide awake on the third story,
He sits while Howard sings about his time.

A creature stews in a pot on an elephant
On the third story and it’s only Saturday.
A gift from the ocean on his birthday.
The old tale of a mermaid trying to find her way.
He’s watching it from the third story.

Through all the water, lost in space confusion,
Her words were somehow heard.
The only one who ever found the way
Inside his fortress inside, middle of the day.
She revealed his life.
Revealed to him his light,
While she was underwater.

Buried in the sand, but hanging on.
All his thoughts are in the songs
That he hears while he’s sitting outside.
Inside his mind are the songs he took in as a child,
That were all written about today.
Somehow, written about today.

She says, ‘Wait patiently.
In time, with life, I’ll find my feet.
We’ll get away, walk the beach,
We’ll sing old songs and we’ll be free.’
We haven’t begun,
We can’t be undone.

The third story on a Saturday
With still so much left to say
And so much left to do.
But, Howard’s still singing.

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