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Don't want to walk upon the water |
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Don't want to look across the waves |
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Instead of seeing hills of water |
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I just see markers on their graves |
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But in the fading of a season |
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To look across an empty sky |
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For a forgotten childhood reason |
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To once more wish that you could |
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Close your eyes and just believe again |
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There's a god does he remember when |
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We were young and faith was not pretend |
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Anymore |
|
Anymore |
|
Anymore |
|
Anymore |
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And in the night he sees the ocean |
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Carve its thoughts upon the shore |
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For in the way it was created |
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It can do this and nothing more |
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And every message it would leave him |
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The next wave carefully erased |
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As the tears that passed between them |
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Were so real that you could |
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Close your eyes and just believe again |
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There's a god and he remembers when |
|
We were young and faith was not pretend |
|
Anymore |
|
Anymore |
|
Anymore |
|
Anymore |
|
And all at once the waves were getting |
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Higher |
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And as they crashed I thought I heard them say |
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There'd be a time when men would all be wiser |
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When everyone, everyone, |
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Yes everyone is |
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Saved |
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And as he walked away he thought about |
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That third stowaway once more |
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And wondered if the body had washed up |
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Upon some far and distant shore |
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Or if it sank down through the depths |
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Of cold reality |
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To rest upon the ocean floor |
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For all eternity |
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For at the bottom of the sea |
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The dead do not feel pain |
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And neath the ocean made of tears |
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They never fear the rain |
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But what had really happened |
|
Was a stranger twist of fate |
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That the deckhand was to never know |
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But to you I will relate |
