| A glass of wine
|
| In my basement alone
|
| Not the blood of the lamb
|
| But it warms my throat
|
| I was counting down the days
|
| And felt the calling for the distance
|
| And stayed just the same
|
| With little to no resistance
|
| Now I’m sinking to feel sober like I’ve
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| Never gotten over the past
|
| And my cabin that is failing
|
| While my ship ceases its sailing with every glass
|
| And I feel exasperated
|
| I quite doubt that I could make it to the sea
|
| But I’d rather drown fightin' for the ocean
|
| Than die in a land-locked dream
|
| Can you count the times
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| I took a step back
|
| Out of all of them
|
| Could you please identify my setback
|
| So maybe next time
|
| I’ll take a coke and hold the whiskey
|
| Cause disillusioned thoughts
|
| Can’t fill the void I’m missing
|
| Now I’m calling to the water like I
|
| Harbor a floating disease
|
| With the slight and certain fear that I’ve
|
| Exaggerated my lung capacity
|
| And yeah I feel exasperated
|
| I quite doubt that I could make it to the sea
|
| But I’d rather drown fighting for the ocean
|
| Than die in a land-locked dream
|
| Please save my ship
|
| I’d like to take my secret habit
|
| Throw it down the rabbit hole
|
| I was sober a few years
|
| But I guess the beers just sort of came with coming home
|
| And it tasted far too sweet
|
| When it brought
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| The color back to my cheeks
|
| After my heart froze
|
| And it’s easy to get away with whatever when you’re
|
| When you’re always alone
|
| God, please save my ship |