When the Water Goes Down

When the water goes down
I'm going to find her waiting
Expecting me to give her answers
Dry her off and give into her way
Sop up the mess with my absorbent nature
Write her poems again

It seems like every time it rains it's raining again
And always when our supplies are down
We seem to conveniently forget that outside is nature
And nature is in a constant state of waiting
Waiting has become the way
You wait for change, for sun, for sex, for answers

I'd like to say that among the things we lost were answers
But she won't take that excuse from me again
She pretends to pack her bags and say she's on her way
But before long she's on the ground begging to go farther down
And still there's silence, still there's stagnation, still there's waiting
We're both waiting for it to kick in--my good nature


But we didn't plan on being kidnapped by Mother Nature
Being locked up inside our house and our questions with no keys and no answers
Going around in word circles, wanting to kill each other, looking forward to waiting
Waiting for the next time we can say this happened 'again'
Waiting for the power lines to go down
Waiting for the search lights to find us on the Meridian Way

I told my friends it had gotten like this, to which they responded 'No way'
They don't care to elaborate on my flooded basement, mind, or Nature
They don't want to hear that I'm coming down
And they're afraid I'll to frisk them for the answers
See if they're stashing them in their pockets again
They can tell by my drenched jeans that I'm still waiting

The water came up to our ears before we stopped waiting
Before we learned to breathe a different way
Before we became mermaids with fishtails again
Before we became anomalies of nature
Before we looked behind our scales and found the answers
Before we stopped trying to go up and embraced going down

Now we're not waiting to change our nature
There's a new way of questioning that doesn't require answers
And we plan on being human again when the water goes down