Walt Grace's Submarine Test, January 1967

Walt Grace, desperately hating his old place

Dreamed to discover a new space

And buried himself alive

Inside his basement, tongue on the side of his face meant

He's working away on displacement

And what it would take to survive

Cause when you're done with this world

You know the next is up to you

And his wife told his kids he was crazy

And his friends said he'd fail if he tried

But with a will to work hard, and a library card

He took a homemade, fan-blade, one-man submarine ride

That morning, the sea was mad and I mean it

Waves as big as he'd seen it

Deep in his dreams at home

From dry land, he rolled it over to wet sand

Closed the hatch up with one hand

And pedaled off alone

Cause when you're done with this world

You know the next is up to you

And for once in his life, it was quiet

As he learned how to turn in the tide

And the sky was aflare when he came up for air

In his homemade, fan-blade, one-man submarine ride

One evening, when weeks had passed since his leaving

The call she'd planned on receiving

Finally made it home

She accepted the news she'd never expected

The operator connected

A call from Tokyo

Cause when you're done with this world

You know the next is up to you

Now his friends bring him up when they're drinking

At the bar with his name on the side

And they smile when they can

As they speak of the man

Who took a homemade, fan-blade, one-man submarine ride