In due time
Do not worry
All is fine.
I'm coming around on the last bend
My baby sleeps in on weekends
Living in hiding with best friends
Wishing and waiting on dead ends
There comfort in seeing the details
My baby waits on the steep trail
Swinging the mast on the white sail
The sea is relentless, we all will fail
On the curtain call
There's no criteria for how much water it takes to fill your lungs like a fish tank.
And the last one beckons
For the final chapter
There's no criteria for how long it takes to sink to the bottom.
There's no criteria for how much a man can take before he sees his reflection in the red Sea.
I see the error of my ways
Almost immediately
Sometimes concurrently
The current currently seems
To be flowing more rapidly
My eyes see the debauchery
It's writhing in my bones
The bone machine churns
It's palpitates and breaks
Crushing into a paste
The lives we tried to make.
I'm going under the waves
The ocean calls my name
I see Poseidon reaching out
Pulling me into his cold embrace
I'm being pulled again
And I say I'll go willingly
But that's not how this game is played
There's no prize for consolation.
Console me, baby.
I've been abused.
Control me, baby.
I'm a worn out tool.
Yeah, I'm still a tool, but it was nice to be used.
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