Odysseus is a drunk in the downtown east-side,
he's standing on the corner waiting for his virgin bride,
and the sidewalk humps at his feet like a roadside heap,
Penelope's dreaming lotteries as she turns in her sleep.
As the spirals gyre like corkscrews in his eyes,
he weaves a song around his wrist like a snake that glides,
and everybody knows he's got time on his side,
as he weaves a crooked flag that he tosses on the tide.

And the white ships are sailing on the dim breasted sea,
Telemachus is trying, but he just can't see,
that daddy is dying on the church of his knees.

And the lady down the street lives in a house shaped like an ark,
and everybody knows she's got a salamander for a heart.
She keeps the curtains shut, she lives in the dark,
but everybody knows she'll tear out your heart,
she's trying so hard those words for to say,
but a wide shouldered man always gets in the way.
In her attic are hung all the men she has known,
they hang there like portraits, their eyes are all closed.

And the white ships are sailing on the dim breasted sea,
Telemachus is trying, but he just can't see,
that daddy is dying on the church of his knees.

And a gutted unicorn was found hanging from a tree,
in New York Central Park on New Year's Eve,
and the chief of police, he made up an alibi,
because the daughter of Christ was found hiding inside.
They found her walking down 42nd street,
her skin had turned blue, she was wearing a sheet,
and all the newspapers said, she was crying so hard,
because she'd never find sweet Bethlehem's star.

And the white ships are sailing on the dim breasted sea,
Telemachus is trying, but he just can't see,
that daddy is dying on the church of his knees.

And Odysseus is a drunk in the downtown east-side,
and Penelope is dreaming lotteries as she turns on her side,
and a gutted unicorn was found hanging from a tree,
in New York Central Park on New Year's Eve.