Its nothing more than a shallow, black pot

Scratched and burned from years of fire too hot

It may not seem like much, but right now its my everything

I'm lost and can only hope to find a hot spring

With only this one, lone instrument

I know i can survive this event

Purifying water slowly comes to a boil

I use it to separate coconut and oil

I use it took cook and clean and collect

I'm not prepared in any aspect

Though the quiet is sometimes quite grand

It does get oh so lonely on this deserted island

Animals i can only describe as "scaries"

I use my pot to collect roots and berries 

I'm lost and alone but I'm going to give it a shot

Because i have my shallow, black pot