the one whose shame is left too long is the one whose name is lost along the clear and shallow shore a reflection in the water stays the thing it grew upon is an ashen sail no more turn straw to gold how can you hold onto the courage to own a name to think of raising up out of these seas the thing that i will raise up is a dress i weave myself of freshly plucked anemones so collect the flowers in the shallow water all along the shore and take them away with you the eye and a reflection of an eye is what that flower sees a space we ve learned here too turn straw to gold what can you hold onto the courage to own a name to think of raising up out of these seas the thing that i will raise up is a dress i weave myself of freshly plucked anemones and i ll be in the water see my hand come through the water and their eyes do close up tight and when they open again a sail is born