Weird Fishes

Clueless. What am I (?/doing/thinking)? How could all this be true. I'm bigger than the world. I'm the smallest creature alive. A weird fish. Swimming in the ocean. Swimming far upstream, ritually. All I find there is the old, dead, and unborn. Bury myself. Someone will come along and pull me out. Someone must come along and pull me out. I must be the answer to something. I must be a piece of the puzzle.

But I am not, am I? I'm no larger than a speck of dust. Wondering the world and praying to be something more than I am right now. Something more than a shell, wringing my hands together and praying for warmth. But I'm not. I'm dust, to dust I'll return. The palms of peace will be burnt to make ash. I'm just far too consumed. Subliming into thin air. Not worth a thing anymore, that way.

[In the deepest ocean
The bottom of the sea
Your eyes
They turn me
Why should I stay here?
Why should I stay?

I'd be crazy not to follow
Follow where you lead
Your eyes
They turn me

Turn me on to phantoms
I follow to the edge of the earth
And fall off
Everybody leaves
If they get the chance
And this is my chance

I get eaten by the worms
Weird fishes
Get picked over by the worms
Weird fishes
Weird fishes
Weird fishes]