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letra de grope for an anchor - ye wiles

‘no more crying.’ he said as he rowed out to a horizon
thatno one sees and all with p-ssion for a map. oh
hope.
help me get the feeling in my hands. they’re to be
pampered
for a cruise, if i don’t break nails groping for an
anchor.
i’ve been having these nightmares at sea, the filthy
water has me.
yes, it’s slow, but that sh-r-line won’t make it
better.
been having these nightmares, been having these
nightmares at sea.
holding splintered oars, i was a child.
too, too many eerily empty rowboats, whose crews have
fed the carnivorous seas.
i guess that p-ssion’s just a pretty useless map. oh
hope.
help me get the felling in my hands, help me get the
feeling in my feet,
i’m groping for an anchor.
i’ve been having these nightmares at sea, the filthy
water has me.
yes, it’s slow, and that sh-r-line won’t make it
better.
been having these nightmares, been having these
nightmares at sea.
holding splintered oars, i was a child.
row on, the land is fooling itself.
what do i see? i see a ship not sh-r-.
row on, the land is fooling itself.
way out where it’s icy, i see a ship that’s further
out.

row on. row on, you’re only furthering yourself,
i’ve got to stir the silence that i see.
row on. row on, you’re only furthering yourself,
while bigger boats have engines. what p-ssion burns
slow?
it’s a progress-troubled tide, and i’m the boy who sank
her.
i grope for an anchor.
it’s a progress-troubled tide, yes, i’m the boy who
sank her.
grope for an anchor. grope for an anchor.
‘no more crying.’ he said as he rowed out.
somewhere across the planet there lives the furthest
ship at sea. oh hope.
get me out there, i will climb, climb, climb aboard.
good things come to those who sweat, and not to those
to the manor born.
hands, unlock and thaw, just take me away from stocks
and war.
rowing isn’t earning yet, but effort i can afford.
i’ve been having these nightmares at sea, the filthy
water has me.
yes, it’s slow, and that sh-r-line won’t make it
better.
been having these nightmares, been having these
nightmares,
been having these nightmares at sea.
it’s a progress-troubled tide, and i’m the boy who sank
her.
i grope for an anchor.
it’s a pogress-troubled tide, yes, i’m the boy who sank
her.
grope for an anchor. grope for an anchor.

- ye wiles

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