This is the accent of the half hearted land

Does it all make sense now

And if the ship was built in bottled sand

Does it all make sense now



The anchors kiss was scrawled

In dyslexic crayon

Yes it all makes sense now

Is this just a life preserver



Of a bivouac tenure

The tropic of cancer answered

Drink the quicksand

A mirror was splintered on the deck floor



Does it all make sense now

A stowaway that lived beneath this hull

Does it all make sense now

The anchors kiss was scrawled



In dyslexic crayon

Yes it all makes sense now

Is this just a life preserver

Or bivouac tenure



This tropic of cancer answered;

Drink the quicksand

It's gills will swim faster after a branch

From the shore



Breathe the taste of salt water

Dry heave up and overboard

Ponce De Leon wrinkles

Let's make it young again



Boat drinks for captains

Row our boat away stowaway

It all makes sense now

If our map was torn navigate, navigate