Well, I'm wearing no shoes, and a knotted red bandanna
my Levi's cut-off, bleached, and frayed at the knees.
This patience rewarded: my frustrations sublimated
for tomorrow we'll aweigh with the morning's silver breeze.
The Elephant Man's our captain and we know it'll be all right
when we raise our rusty anchor and set sail with the dawn.
We'll seek Portuguese mansions and old slave traders' forts
that still echo desperate cries of the stolen forlorn.
Our old dhow is defiant and ploughs a southern bearing
the sails they are patched and well-worn at the seams.
Its planking pit-sawn from an old tree we borrowed
and it's caulked with the remnants of old sailors' dreams.
We're not looking for medals of great honour
don't want deliverance to God's heavenly gates.
All we want is the whale song around us
and to carry their message before it's too late.
There are no expectations in this battered old suitcase
that has carried my weapons of struggle to the frays.
And we're sailing wild waters on ancient mariners' bearings
where sharks are our companions and fear is no disgrace.
There's a blonde Amazon goddess who leads me on with kindness
our companions are dolphins swimming Eden's coral reef.
But the concussions are deafening, and there's blood in the water
and they carve up our companions as we drown in our grief.
All we want is to stand in defiance
and expose the destruction before it's too late.
And this message we carry is now in life's little bottles
that we cast upon the internet to float through time and space.
don't want deliverance to God's heavenly gates.
All we want is the whale song around us
and to carry their message before it's too late.
my Levi's cut-off, bleached, and frayed at the knees.
This patience rewarded: my frustrations sublimated
for tomorrow we'll aweigh with the morning's silver breeze.
The Elephant Man's our captain and we know it'll be all right
when we raise our rusty anchor and set sail with the dawn.
We'll seek Portuguese mansions and old slave traders' forts
that still echo desperate cries of the stolen forlorn.
Our old dhow is defiant and ploughs a southern bearing
the sails they are patched and well-worn at the seams.
Its planking pit-sawn from an old tree we borrowed
and it's caulked with the remnants of old sailors' dreams.
We're not looking for medals of great honour
don't want deliverance to God's heavenly gates.
All we want is the whale song around us
and to carry their message before it's too late.
There are no expectations in this battered old suitcase
that has carried my weapons of struggle to the frays.
And we're sailing wild waters on ancient mariners' bearings
where sharks are our companions and fear is no disgrace.
There's a blonde Amazon goddess who leads me on with kindness
our companions are dolphins swimming Eden's coral reef.
But the concussions are deafening, and there's blood in the water
and they carve up our companions as we drown in our grief.
We're not looking for medals of great honour
don't want deliverance to God's heavenly gatesAll we want is to stand in defiance
and expose the destruction before it's too late.
And this message we carry is now in life's little bottles
that we cast upon the internet to float through time and space.
And all friends and true believers 'like' and 'share' each posted message
and our songs bring us together to watch over this watery place.
We're not looking for medals of great honourand our songs bring us together to watch over this watery place.
don't want deliverance to God's heavenly gates.
All we want is the whale song around us
and to carry their message before it's too late.
