BEYOND THE RED HORIZON

Beyond the red horizon where the sun is going down 

Beyond the red horizon capricious day will not be found

Beyond the red horizon night will soon be coming ‘round

And we will soon be putting out to sea.

Light wrapped in silky dim, night is whispering to the men,

Light wrapped in silky dim, parting love to Madeleine

Light wrapped in silky dim, soon the waves will crest again 

And a sacrificial sheep bled off the shore.

Woven laurel garlands divinely strewn across the bow

Woven laurel garlands for safe passage and know how

Woven laurel garlands to stave Poseidon’s wrath for now.

And the ship slipped down the logs into the sea.

The oars and crew are one, we, a hundred and seventy men.

The oars and crew are one, we strain forward, back again.

The oars and crew are one, strict cadence to contend,

As we glide red tinted waters of the sea.

​Rhythmic wooden thuds as timber pivots against the wood, 

Rhythmic wooden thuds, rower’s catch and splash is good,

Rhythmic wooden thuds the stroke keeper understood

And the double-reed piper did the same.

Favorable wind conditions away from land to catch the breeze

Favorable wind conditions hoist two sails on open seas

Favorable wind conditions rowers rest their oars with ease 

With the smell of salty brine, we’re underway!

Sails and rigging strain to do the bidding of the ship

Sails and rigging strain, sharp wind snaps them like a whip

Sails and rigging strain, twisted hemp sounds pull and slip

And ocean offers up its instrument.

The hull of timber creaks and groans, waves flex around the ship

The hull of timber creaks and groans, waters hiss and slap bow’s lip.

The hull of timber creaks and groans, ballast losing grip

The slosh and splash play rhythmic ocean’s lyre.

Our Grecian Trireme ships sail to vast and distant lands

Our Grecian Trireme ships elude danger and demands

Our Grecian Trireme ships escaped the Siren’s song and plans

But we look for songs of love upon the sea.

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We look for Songs of Love not be buried in false fame

We look for Songs of Love not omniscience and gain

We look for Songs of Love not Siren’s sound to tame

And we hear a gentle calling over there.

The purest sound of music, not trapped within the past

The purest sound of music, not temptation lashed to.mast,

The purest sound of music, safe harbor found at last

Unurban Sunday Songbird’s set us free.

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​We love to dock with you, 

Sundays 1:30-4:30, except the 2nd Sunday of the month.

3301 Pico, Santa Monica, Ca.

THE UNURBAN COFFEE HOUSE

Featuring Brad Kay from noon to 1:30 as well!