Scared of the Sea

But do you not see, this is not where I should be?

One day we’ll pack our bags and we’ll head down west.

Where we can sit and watch the Great Yoke set.

We’ll bring our poets; We’ll bring our friends.

Cause there’s no room for enemies when its close to the end.

Avast ye mateys we anchor aboard.

Our hearts are sore and we never been able to see the Lord.

So what the hell does life even mean, If we can’t get away; If we can’t be free?

I’ll write them everyday, don’t you doubt it.. No place is home; No where is perfect.

But all the while the woods were calling.

I tapped your shoulder and asked “Why C.A?”

You reply “We write songs about the ocean everyday.”

It seemed no one thought to ask me. 

So I seep lower into my set, think to myself “But I’m scare of the sea :(“

Sometimes we need to chill, lay and rest. 

Hopefully a calm good feeling will come to my beating chest.

But all these hipster they are all the same.

Its never yellow submarine anymore; but finding a vintage picture frame.

I’d rather live in an octopuses garden, then sail on the wrestling waves.

There I wont be expected to be brave. Ocean floors certainly would not be my grave.

For my fears they don’t want me to swim. For if I do it most certainly will be my end.