The Never-Setting Empire

The sun never set on the British Empire
And it never sets on mine;
I sit in oceans of iron and salt,
I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.

Silvery setting suns
Scarring scarlet shimmering sin,
Brushstrokes with santokus,
Keeping my demons in.

White lines,
Wrapped in wet dreams for strange places...
Blades slice smooth, so what's your excuse,
There is blood in so many faces.

White rooms and ragged pie plates;
You know the sun never sets here
Would not the navy love my eyes-
Sails on every pier.