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