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ritual - seasong for the moominpappa lyrics
narrated:
“there it is,” moominmamma murmured. “that’s where we’re going to live and lead a wonderful and troublesome life.”
“what did you say?” asked moomintroll.
“that is where we’re going to live,” repeated moominmamma.
“that is pappa’s island. pappa is going to look after us.”
peaceful is the ocean, careful in the motion.
a scent of salt and seaweed and of sand.
the nature of the sea, the ebbing flooding dream,
wave after wave – this moment will prevail.
then suddenly some gulls rise from the point.
the heather shows the weather.
still, the risky seasong takes you to the deeper waters.
no sails has been seen to p-ss in four long dreary years. in any case, the lighthouse keeper is gone. a tiny rocky island, a waiting eerie silence – the lighthouse seems a lonely place to be. the lighthouse seems the only place to be for the family, to see for the family in the crystal ball. now they miss the seasong.
(the seasong takes them to the furthest island)
seems everybody’s in a hurry. so wouldn’t it be nice to set off worried!
worse things happen, happen at sea. now is the moment to be listening to the seasong
the boat was lying tied-up, bobbing up and down, upholding it’s good name: “the adventure”. pattering on the jetty, the sun was in the setting. moominpappa knew he had the course. he held the rudder tightly in his paws.
the heather shows the weather and the risky seasong takes you out on deeper waters.
worse things happen, happy weather, now is the moment to be listening to the seasong
ride on the swells, the white-flecked spindrift. riding the waves, the cold spray flying. wind, snapping sails, the call of sea birds. listen friend! can you hear the… was that a mermaid calling your name? wasn’t that a crate of good strong whisky? was all that piracy good living? weigh anchor! set the sails for… anywhere!
message in a bottle:
“come sail the seas, go fishing with me!
come sail to sea, go fishing with me!”
of course, you may think your ships are st-rdy.
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