| This is the accent of the halfhearted land
|
| Does it all make sense now
|
| And if the ship was built in bottled sand
|
| Does it all make sense now
|
| The anchor’s kiss was scrawled in dyslexic crayon
|
| Yes it all makes sense now
|
| Is this just a life preserver
|
| Or a bivouac tenure
|
| The tropic of cancer answered,
|
| «drink the quicksand'
|
| A mirror was splintered on the deck floor
|
| Does it all make sense now
|
| A stowaway that lived beneath this hull
|
| Does it all make sense now
|
| The anchor’s kiss was scrawled in dyslexic crayon
|
| Yes it all makes sense now
|
| Is this just a life preserver
|
| Or a bivouac tenure
|
| The tropic of cancer answered,
|
| «drink the quicksand»
|
| Its gills will swin faster after a breath from the shore
|
| Breathe the taste of salt water
|
| Dry heave up and overboard
|
| Ponce de leon wrinkles
|
| Let’s make it young again
|
| Boat drinks for captains
|
| Row our boat stowaway
|
| It all makes sense now
|
| If our map was torn, navigate, navigate
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| If your compass broke, navigate, navigate |