36 acessos
Walt Grace, desperately hating his old place,
Dreamed to discover a new space,
And buried himself alive
Inside his basement, tongue on the side of his face meant
He's working away on displacement,
And what it would take to survive
Cause when you're done with this world
You know the next is up to you
And his wife told his kids he was crazy,
And his friends said he'd fail if he tried,
But with a will to work hard, and a library card,
He took a homemade, fan-blade, one-man submarine ride
That morning, the sea was mad and I mean it,
Waves as big as he'd seen it
Deep in his dreams at home
From dry land, he rolled it over to wet sand,
Closed the hatch up with one hand
And pedaled off alone
Cause when you're done with this world
You know the next is up to you
And for once in his life it was quiet,
As he learned how to turn in the tide,
And the sky was aflare when he came up for air,
In his homemade, fan-blade, one-man submarine ride
One evening, when weeks had passed since his leaving,
The call she'd planned on receiving,
Finally made it home
She accepted the news she'd never expected,
The operator connected
A call from Tokyo
Cause when you're done with this world
You know the next is up to you
Now his friends bring him up when they're drinking
At the bar with his name on the side
And they smile when they can
As they speak of the man
Who took a homemade, fan-blade, one-man submarine ride