Captain Father, here we are
Doused in gasoline
The mark has been made out
We’re thrown into a scene
And where do we gotta run?
The noise is distant still
Is this the top of the world
Or just a game we play down here?
Follow blind whales
They know home
And your arms left us there to find our way
When we buried little hearts ours grew gray
Write the stories on our graves…
I’ve been down here
For thirty years
I’ve learned one thing: we never learn
If the sign marks left
If the earth moves fast
Will your arms take us there to find our way?
Will the stories on their graves make it okay?
Guess we’ll find out anyway…