Dover

We hold tight to the ghosts in the stories, we do everything that we can to keep them alive.
We take turns in turning the pages, in reading the words, in showing the pictures.

The failures and the wait, those days have past.
Set sail towards somewhere we [bad word] too fast.

We hold tight to bits of the past, bits that keep the days from aging that fast.
We take turns in setting the course, what borders to cross and what places to head to.
With their threats and regrets and the guns that they pull when they see that you're on your way out from this house that's on fire, from fights you keep losing, that's just a last try for the sand not to slip through their hands.
And with hundreds of words, they keep holding you back and with promises they keep you off track but your are better than that and you're better off happy than waking up guilty of faults and mistakes that never were real.

The failures and the wait, those days have past.
Set sail towards somewhere we [bad word] too fast.
The failures and wait, those days have past.
Set sail towards something that [bad word] to last.

With our hands tied to, weights that pull and drag towards dark waters.
With our hands tied to, ropes reaching for depths from which we [bad word] back.
With our hands tied to, weights that pull and drag towards dark waters.
If yours are looser tied, loosen mine and bring us both back up.