| Yo ho! |
| The distant shore!
|
| Yo ho! |
| The distant shore!
|
| Oceans never listen to us anyway,
|
| Oceans never listen to us anyway.
|
| And if I fall into the drink,
|
| I will say your name, before I sink.
|
| He says your name out loud;
|
| At miniature rooms where no one’s found;
|
| It’s a desperate sound.
|
| Yo ho! |
| The distant shore!
|
| He stands his feet down
|
| You hear his knuckles on your door.
|
| He wants to send you drawings
|
| Drawings of men with faithful hands
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| They will make such good boyfriends
|
| He wants to tell you stories
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| Stories of boys who stomped their feet saying,
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| «Shut — shut up I am dreaming of places
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| Where lovers have wings.»
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| «I'll meet you where the river forks;
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| When everyone else is dead
|
| You’ll be safe on the water
|
| We’ll be much younger, and we remember.
|
| Yo ho! |
| The distant shore!
|
| I send my feet down—
|
| Down do you hear knuckles
|
| On your door. |
| Do you understand
|
| What I’m finding for? |
| Oh,
|
| Oceans never listen to us anyway.
|
| Oceans never listen to us anyway.
|
| And if I fall into the drink,
|
| I will say your name, before I sink.
|
| Oceans never listen to us anyway.
|
| I’m afraid of the water;
|
| I’m afraid of the sky.
|
| I’m tired of waiting.
|
| Oceans never listen to us anyway,
|
| Oceans never listen to us anyway.
|
| And if I fall into the drink,
|
| I will say your name, before I sink.
|
| So… don’t make a sound.
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| Don’t make a sound. |