Lie awake In a dream To recover The remedy buried deep In the ancient seas Of silent sleep.
The weight of Lead-filled eyelids Grows so heavy, Now our ship will sink.
The tides keep on carving our shore With intentions to heal, The moon keeps on pulling our weight, As our bones, crush we keel. The seconds keep tearing away, Ever gnawing our heals. The horizon keeps lighting our shore With intentions to heal.