Water Lights - Bill Hicks

On a boat, in the night, you might see a light

It might be red, or green, blinking or white

You can stand by the rail, looking out through the black

You can feel like a cat, tied up in a sack

But that one little light will make everything right

The water will hiss when it’s cut by the bow

The gulls are like ghosts as they sweep past the prow

On a trawler 100 yards starboard some guy

With a beard gives you half of a wave as you pass

With your arms on the rail and your eyes on the sky

In the cars all around there are people and sound--

Kids tired and restless, lovers entangled

Surfers and lawyers and grammas with bangles

And ankle tattoos, it’s not an Ark it’s a zoo

And that one little light is what’s seeing you through

At some point the other side comes into view

Lit by the red and green harbor-mouth markers

They’re winking together and then out of sync

Like two heartbeats that merge and then drift apart

As we lie close together, and silently listen

Eyes shut tight, arms wrapped around a new start