ever since the wind had died I've drifted, lost, with the tide
thought it'd be a three hour tour but now those rocks will have us for sure
siren call against my sails, it's a cry lost in a howling gale
foaming waves so deep and green
the prettiest shade I've ever seen
and I can't believe that this is how it would be
my cold wet ass against the cruel sea
lost at sea for days and days
the gulls they cry amongst these waves
is it the time or is it me?
the sea's a cruel mistress when she wants to be
no such thing as a sure thing today
all you hold dear can just be blown away
you can curse and swear, you can get on your knees
but what's the difference anyways?
no wind, no sails
land a thousand miles away
water, water everywhere but none to take my thirst away
reduced to being a salt streaked man bobbing helpless amongst these waves
and if I could get a drink I would surely last another day
and I never thought that this is how it would be
my cold wet ass against the cruel sea
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