Lyrics:

this is the accent of the halfhearted land

does it all make sense now

and if the ship was built in bottled sand

does it all make sense now

the anchor's kiss was scrawled in dyslexic crayon

yes it all makes sense now



is this just a life preserver

or a bivouac tenure

the tropic of cancer answered,

'drink the quicksand'



a mirror was splintered on the deck floor

does it all make sense now

a stowaway that lived beneath this hull

does it all make sense now

the anchor's kiss was scrawled in dyslexic crayon

yes it all makes sense now



is this just a life preserver

or a bivouac tenure

the tropic of cancer answered,

'drink the quicksand'

its gills will swin faster after a breath from the shore

breathe the taste of salt water

dry heave up and overboard

ponce de leon wrinkles

let's make it young again

boat drinks for captains

row our boat stowaway

it all makes sense now

if our map was torn, navigate, navigate

if your compass broke, navigate, navigate