Trouble and stress are hardly a test, as you spend your last moments together.
But Something's not right, like the dimming of light, my thoughts are becoming estranged.
Sprung like a gun there's nowhere to run, The coward has hidden away.
I'm Left in a wreck at the stern of the deck with the sea that keeps stirring and churning. I curl to a ball where once I stood tall and reflect on the waves of the storm.
sodden wet and far from home yet the clouds in the sky grey and muster
as we reach for the dry land, all be that its sand and walk the bumpy way home.
the stones that were laid now lay there unpaved. and im not at all that sure anymore.
that road was a trap, one without map, that bastard, that twat, I'm turning my back.