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As he stood upon the watch deck |
|
Looking out onto the sea |
|
It would offer no solutions |
|
Only silent company |
|
So he took hold of the reasons |
|
As he tried to understand |
|
But they offered just confusion |
|
As they bled into his hands |
|
Dear god |
|
Couldn't you decide |
|
What should happen to a man's assassins |
|
Dear god |
|
Is it suicide |
|
I have never been a man of passions |
|
I believe what the prophets said |
|
That the oceans hold their dead |
|
But at night when the waves are near |
|
They whisper |
|
And I hear |
|
There are wounds that bleed inside us |
|
There are wounds we never see |
|
They are part of our refinements |
|
That allow a man to be |
|
There are wounds that bleed in silence |
|
With aristocratic grace |
|
There are tears we keep beside them |
|
Never seen upon a face |
|
Dear god |
|
Do you think it's wise |
|
To remember everything that's ever happened |
|
Dear god |
|
Could we compromise |
|
Or must the shadows of this night be everlasting |
|
I believe what the prophets said |
|
That the oceans hold their dead |
|
As I contemplate this stand |
|
What I do |
|
Is who I am |
|
I believe what the prophets said |
|
That the oceans hold their dead |
|
But at night when the waves are near |
|
They whisper |
|
And I hear |
|
Don't see the storms are forming |
|
Don't see or heed the warning |
|
Don't hear the sound of tyrants |
|
Surrounded by the silence |
|
Columbus and magellan and de gama |
|
Sailed upon the ocean |
|
In a world of ignorance |
|
With thoughts so primitive |
|
That men were killed |
|
With no more will |
|
Than that they simply had the notion |
|
But in this world of heartless men |
|
This thing they never did |
|
Don't hear it |
|
Don't hear it |
|
Don't hear it |
|
Don't hear it |
|
Got to keep it underground |
|
Pretend you never heard a sound |
|
If they find it kill it blind it |
|
If they find it kill it blind it |
|
Lord tell me what is to be |
|
Lord tell me what is to be |
|
They whisper and I hear |
