The people who will not swim in the sea
Might as well be a different species to me,
And I’ve never been able to understand
Those who just sit, fully-clothed on the sand-
If you don’t like boats and will not fly,
How exactly do you get by?
If you just stay home and don’t explore,
Does life not leave you wanting more?
Far be it from me to complain,
But some people’s lives just seem so mundane,
Their worlds so tiny, so bland and risk-free,
That kind of existence is hellish to me-
Personally, I have never been
Much of a stickler for routine,
I’d rather experience life’s kinks and twists,
Than have it dictated by to-do lists-
If you spend your days just trawling through news,
How do you not succumb to the blues?
I don’t see how anyone could truly be
Content with just reality-
If you never notice the sunset’s glory,
Or lose yourself within a story,
If you run from the rain and cower from thunder,
Tell me how do you live without whimsy and wonder?
If you do not sing and will not dance,
If you insist on ironing your underpants,
By all means continue-that’s up to you,
But do you really have nothing better to do?
Places to see and chances to take,
A world of art to consume and make,
Life is not about housework or taxes or bills,
But pursuing contentment and chasing down thrills-
It takes all sorts to make a world,
But those who keep their sails furled
Will never reach a speed so high
As those who simply let theirs fly-
If that’s how you like to travel, crack on,
But me and my boat-I’ll be gone,
Over the horizon to who knows where,
But I’m sure that adventures await me there.