Tahitian Ambrosia Maker

We were real hungry and half dead

When you broke out half a loaf of sourdough bread

And in the tropical air the scent rose like a spirit

Moments of grace like this being wholly unmerited

We were newly alive and I felt your hand on my arm

I was awake to the sensation and immune from all harm

You pressed your soft cheek up against my gut

Pure gold, nothing but gold

And I'm gonna bake you a nice coconut cream pie

'Cause I saw the sky coming down to meet you