i draw lines in the sand
just to cross them and say
'there was never a chance to make it'
the atlantic be my witness
i'm too deep in this
i'm too deep in this
ropes looped around my limbs
tied to a bag in which
i drag along behind me
the shame of generations
it obliterates my footprints
and makes it harder to advance
but as long as I keep up this play
they will never see me sweat,
oh, they will never see me sweat.
i carry the weight of attention on my shoulders
a state that once frightened me to death
now gives the comfort of meaning
and a sense of alignment
i would otherwise miss
i collect all the things,
washed up to the shore,
that were lost in the vast, open ocean.
in the hope to find that one piece,
i can hold onto.
roots anchored in the soil,
wrapped 'round the bodies of
the ones that toiled beside me
to be never forgotten,
to be covered in the sawdust
of a benchmark to the sea,
but as long as it won't leave this port
they will never know my name,
oh, they will never know my name.
just to cross them and say
'there was never a chance to make it'
the atlantic be my witness
i'm too deep in this
i'm too deep in this
ropes looped around my limbs
tied to a bag in which
i drag along behind me
the shame of generations
it obliterates my footprints
and makes it harder to advance
but as long as I keep up this play
they will never see me sweat,
oh, they will never see me sweat.
i carry the weight of attention on my shoulders
a state that once frightened me to death
now gives the comfort of meaning
and a sense of alignment
i would otherwise miss
i collect all the things,
washed up to the shore,
that were lost in the vast, open ocean.
in the hope to find that one piece,
i can hold onto.
roots anchored in the soil,
wrapped 'round the bodies of
the ones that toiled beside me
to be never forgotten,
to be covered in the sawdust
of a benchmark to the sea,
but as long as it won't leave this port
they will never know my name,
oh, they will never know my name.