tied to the edges of our skinned costal archs 
tripwire taut across two bodies just ain't enough 
when shaky hands try to get a grip this time 
on a cracked and slippery end we all know how this story begun
and how this story will end 
entangled skeletons in this sinking ships' womb 
carving names, oh so slow in each others calcium 
when they wake for good this ships captains ghost 
with the shattering sound of their snapping bones 
storms and ship-high waves 
we're pushing and pulling railings will fail 
you tumble and fall and feel trapped 
in a thousand unfamiliar hands 
in this oceans saltwater hands 
when passion... does not mean to obligate yourself to them 
and will never mend or harm derelict hearts in this oceans arms
so better be armed with 
something different 
than a tin dagger in the sheath 
on this sinking ships deck 
an anchor, the suction, the rain 
like glass on your skin, unrestrained 
the bottom, a leak and the sea 
stop staring, let go and you'll be free 
... we'll be free 
everybody will be free 
everybody 
don't try to save 
a moment for too long 
if someone you shared it with 
already passed it on 
so refill the glass 
one last time 
and raise it high 
for a toast tonight 
to what you've [bad word] 
a drowning home 
when you drift along 
towards the coast 
on to a shore 
of drowned dreams and hopes 
now drink up 
and please move on 
and don't pretend 
you're already gone