Farewell my son, I hear the boatswain whistling, the time is up, no more sea bag packed, when he calls you, you can't back out anymore, just like I came, so I go; naked. Don't forget me, don't look for me in the crypts, I'm not going to windward, I drift away to leeward, riding with the wind high up in the skies, and whipping the wide, wild sea in the storm. Oh beloved, I have to leave you now, the darkness calls and I board the ship, because even the image of me will soon fade away, but storm and wind will bring you my word. I set sail for distant star worlds and dive into a colorful light's splendor, sending you a trail of stars in dark skies as a spring breeze caresses you in dance. Also you comrades, wild mates, cast off your lines, I wish you good luck, I can no longer join you for a drink because from this journey here I won't return. So farewell then, I hear the boatswain whistling and there at the helm, that guy made of bone already on the yards the birds of death are screeching. I am the crew; I go all alone.
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