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As A Conceit
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Rough Waters
I've seen tides on the beach, collecting the corpses
Of those in between the fled and the homesick.
I thought I'd never leave, too afraid of the courses,
I did what I did, to cleanse my remorses.
I set sail, not to leave things behind but so set things ahead.
I set sail, to watch the streams pass me by not my fears hold me back.
Aweigh the anchor, to our salvation.
It's the journey that means something, not the single destination.
And on we go.
We went too far to turn back now.
We went this far just to turn this around.
Don't wait for me awake, we're heading home.
We're coming home.
We're coming home, we still stand strong.
We never saw it coming.
We're coming home, still miles to go.
We can still hear their calling.
And now winds are against us, I'll take my time.
Odds were against us, we did not seem to mind.
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Winds are against us, we will abide, just blow from the top of your lungs.
Aweigh, aweigh the anchor.
Are we, are we still welcome home?
Aweigh, aweigh the anchor.
Are we, are we still welcome?
It calls for a toast to the best of the intentions.
It calls for a toast to the worst of the occasions.
Worst of the occasions.
So leave the docks, no reason to keep safe.
We're coming home, we still stand strong.
We never saw it coming.
We're coming home, still miles to go.
We can still hear their calling.
We're heading home.
We're coming home.
We're coming home, we still stand strong.
We never saw it coming
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