In my youth I always swore I’d rule what’s in my world,
But as I’m going out to sea I feel my wrongs unfold.
Haven’t seen what life might be, haven’t been in love,
All I see is yesterdays, in my eyelids carved.
Now the storms of land are gone, but the life goes on,
Sort of like it did before, thirsty and alone.
Sharing food with mice and rats, torture-killing time
On my ship that goes by fast, steering out of line.

CHORUS:

Sun burns down my thoughts
Salt destroys my eyes,
Rats wear down the boards that keep my ship alive.
Hands are full of scars,
But not as full as the
Rusted insides of my mind.

All the nights I spend in clouds, opium induced,
Finest of the kind from all the seaports that I cruised,
And when nothing seems to go right and the food is tight,
I retrieve my only treasure, everything’s alright.
Kind of like a broken driftwood floating in the sea,
Goes my time with no regrets, no, drowning out in me.
I don’t like this style of dying, slowly breaking up;
That is why I look for storms every chance I’ve got.
CHORUS

In my youth I always swore I’d rule what’s in my world,
Now I’m sitting in the hull, counting all my gold,
Like an ancient trader that has turned to dust this way.
I’m a goner sitting here, on this shiny grave.
Waiting for it all to go, waiting to run out,
Of this life, of this Earth, of this tale about
How I tried to be out there, like a hungry wolf,
And now all I have are scars, of my wretched youth.

CHORUS

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