| Loose lips, sink ships.
|
| Salt sips, rose hips.
|
| All along, it was the ocean’s song
|
| That called me down to listen to her.
|
| Standing drenched by a 40 ft. coral fence.
|
| Swallowed by a swiftly dripping ripple.
|
| Watching saltclouds billow. |
| Brimming and brand-new.
|
| Down below, I will follow, what bubbles tell me to.
|
| All along, it was the ocean’s song
|
| That called me down to listen to her.
|
| Swirling still, in a SweetWater Kill.
|
| A swiftly sifting riptide.
|
| You know that old song. |
| From far
|
| Far away, Not too long. |
| Drifting along.
|
| Down in SweetWater.
|
| Dead weight, sink straight.
|
| Why?
|
| All along, it was the ocean’s song
|
| That called me down to listen to her.
|
| Standing still in a SweetWater Kill.
|
| A swiftly sifting ripple.
|
| Down in SweetWater.
|
| You know that old song. |
| From far
|
| Far away, Not too long. |
| Drifting along.
|
| Down in SweetWater.
|
| All along, it was the ocean’s song
|
| That called me down to listen to her.
|
| Swirling still, in a SweetWater Kill.
|
| Down in sweetwater. |