In the belly of a bird, I travelled across the sea; 
Nothing sounded more peaceful, 
Than the white noise of saltwater. 

To every bird his song, 
To every man his wrong 

I made you a promise, I [bad word] back; 
hypocrite holds her words. 
As wrong as I was, and as good as you were, 
It’s still not enough 

To every bird his song, 
To every man his wrong 
Choke on words.