The Custom of the Sea
Ghostlimb
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We'll die of thirst
On the sea,
the same as the city but flat black asphalt waves
lack the trade winds to save us from the isolation
so paddle hard because we all know what the straws decree
one of us has go this
time no one makes it home
We'll die of thirst
On the sea,
the same as the city but flat black asphalt waves
lack the trade winds to save us from the isolation
so paddle hard because we all know what the straws decree
one of us has go this
time no one makes it home
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