Dirty Projectors swing lo magellan

Last night all my attention
squinting westward at the sunset
with a map and a compass
when a man reached up said something
there against the sky,
a ball of light
too invisible to give itself
to the naked eye
On the shore people yelling
in their eyes a great reflection
in the grid aware their position
unconcerned with intuition
There can never be
no sympathy
from that wilderness
so let it be
arrested
Swing Lo oh Magellan
nine by six or eight by seven
poster sent in all at the border
of what you attempt while you ignore
I saw my frame in a ball of light
all drowned in doubt and shame
I knew that I had lost my sight