I fell asleep on a stuffed leather box,
And woke a moment later in a bar downtown
Guzzling saltwater from the tap.
The barkeep asked what the hell I was doing,
So I told him, “Cleaning my wounds.”
Sure enough, all my teeth were gone
No telling where, though.
My tongue tripped in hole after hole,
Worried more about whistling
Than wedding photos.
I just had to get away from it all,
So I hopped on the first ferry to the new world.
After months of bitter cold, shaking, up-down
Rocking and bad jokes about seamen,
I stepped ashore, washed my feet in loam
Thick as set bacon grease
And I told myself right then and there,
This would be the start of something great.
I grabbed a spoon and a compass,
Pointed my face to the first mountain I saw
And set off to find out
If clouds tasted how I always imagined,
Or even like anything in particular.
It wasn’t long at all before I was digging
My way to the summit, and just as the sun
Broke open, sizzling and smelling sweet,
I woke to my wife standing over me,
Holding a spatula, saying,
“Scrambled, or sunny side up?”