Из альбома: Renaissance in Reverse
She sails the blanket of the sea
Peering through the waves
Her gaze is whispering the call back home.
From the shores of self scream
Shafts of light cutting through great blue
From the shores that beg to be renewed.
As the sand courses through his veins.
Those bright lights they burn off all his shame.
They find him walking the bottom of the ocean,
sifting through the grain,
calling out with water lungs.
He's calling out with water lungs...
To all he lost,
for what they have stole from him.
His voice carries through raising sunken vessels
to carry him towards the inhale.
The ghosts who sold their voice
traveling the very same path
fall to a watery grave and taunt him to the bone.
Though his ocean wrists run deep,
they will not be cause to drown.