3 acessos
Seven years on the seven seas
the winds have ceased all is well at ease
there's no tempest to attack me
Afloat on the boat of mediocrity
way back when you first called me, at peace with you i'd always be
but now it's empty methodology, a fin white tomb that no one sees
Ohh I am perishing, in the grey of faith and form
Arise, rebuke my content, and my peace, make my calm your storm
I want to navigate out of this lukewarm sea
into the stream of reality
Let the waves through their threats as me
Makes me hold on more tightly
I want to set my sails free
Discontent with what will bw will be
I want to kill this thief that steals
Kill my self, the pharisee