The islands off the coast are on fire
Yellow and crimson
Just beyond calico beach
The fire's ascension
Of gasoline
Burned red and green
Is like the balzing corona
Of a midnight sun
Under the angelfust
And the terminus
The heavens have already been turned
Caught in the circling eye
Of a cloudy high is the feeling that
I'm gonna get burned
The islands off the coast are on fire
Orange and violet
Standing on a thundering beach
Frozen in silence
The rising sound
Of burning ground
Is like a carbon echo
Of a smoking gun
Just beyond the solution
Of rolling seas and pollution
Salted hands
Salted lashes
Salted wings
Turned to ashes
Standing on a turpentine beach
The sky's growing blacker
The imagery
Seems clear to me
A glowing symbol of danger
On the horizon