preparedness (the craziest shit)

The way to handle the craziest shit is 
sane,
sane.
Sane. 
But you can't really grasp all phenomena by
brain,
brain.
Brain. 
What you can't really grasp you mishandle 
a bit, but 
your compass gets spun in the thought of it 
when you find you 
were wrong, right as hard 
as you tried? No 
shame, 
shame. 
Shame in that lie 

Not if you don't know it's false
that time. You're just trying to hold it
all in mind. It's 
plain, 
plain that you shall so
fail. 

Tack into the wind, and ride that sin 
of pride so hard 
that whoops you've lost your sail! 
and your whole sailor-suit as well, 
oh hell. Just sit your bare 
ass (hot damn!) on the sun-baked plank
by the oarlocks, ma'am and 
row, 
row, 
row your cute-named dingy boat 
fast! You ain't sank 
yet, even wet, bare-assed 
tacking without a sail 
past a friendly whale 
to the sure, 
sure, 
shore 
you hope
will be fair
and just somewhere
over the horizon. where 
the bluebirds fly, don't forget to bail 

if the chop from the waves
breaking over you gets salt spray 
in your eye and collects too deep
in that seaworthy bottom of yours 
(the boat) as you man them oars,
take a break for saltwater
and buoyancy! And bail. Oh
snap. Did you bring a pail?

Did you bring one for me?

I know, I'm not there, but you never can 
tell who's adrift at sea. You might 
give me the eye, call "Hey there, 
bob" - as I bob so well, 

you might look, decide 
and aim for the swell where 
I bob so well, calling all aboard 
wait. Hey - what the hell is that 
in your hands, there bob?

Oh, please. What dude 
bobs out in the sea 

bearing two (2) pails

This drifter's not lost at sea 
at all, is he? Oh say, have you heard 

the myth of the friendly were
-whale? It's me. Glad to meet you 

sir. So, 
tell me did you bring any clothes? 
Because br-r-r