Pilotfish (feat. Rubee Fegan)

I'm swimming through the hook-infested waters

Of the north-pacific wasteland

With radar precision i'm a human missile heading for a lymph gland

Deepsea fish don't taste nearly as good

They taste just like they should

I know that from experience

Visibility grows thin

As the chemical-laced water terraforms me from within

In gulfs and streams I search for life

Through propeller blades and sonar-sabotage

A speck of organism in a vast and all-engulfing sea of grey

Longing for the sweet embracing jaws

Before being washed up on the shore

A sun-dried fish shape in the sand

Won't you be my pink shark in the bay?

And feed on me as I decay?

I'll be your chum in murky green

Your polychloroprene

They have nothing of harm to dread,

But liquidly glide on his ghastly flank

Or before his gorgonian head

Or lurk in the port of serrated teeth

In white triple tiers of glittering gates

And there find a haven when peril's abroad

An asylum in jaws of the fates

Years i spent in sperm whale's guts

Their blubber kept me warm in winter months

A dark shade underneath me swam

Its head stuck to my rump and bled me dry

A port's mouth is my sweet relief

Like mack the knife you've got your teeth

A feeder fish in a saltwater bowl

Won't you eat me while I taste okay?

A by-catch product thrown away

Sunk with finless elasmobranch

Camouflaged neath the sand

And I'll roam the oceans like a floating blimp

Tracked with a tiny radar chip

A zebra-patterned belly upside down

Headed coast-bound