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Every old salt knows a song to sing |
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When things go wrong, and things go wrong, |
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They can resurrect men with mighty hymns |
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Cannot raise the diving bell |
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With their hands cut open and the line unweaving |
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Sea swells like the ribcage of lions breathing |
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They pulled 'til you swore that the rope was bleeding |
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Ichor poured from the palms of gods and heathens |
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When their bell dipped down in the Stygian deep |
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And they know many omens are spoken evil |
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but those poor souls that know that awful feeling |
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They're dancing like their lantern candles |
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Every old salt knows a song to sing |
|
When things go wrong, and things go wrong |
|
They can resurrect men with mighty hymns |
|
Cannot raise the diving bell |
|
Cannot raise the diving bell |
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Cannot raise the diving bell |
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Well the sanguine sun set on the evening |
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In the sea like glass that was far too peaceful |
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Though the line ran tight to the bell beneath it |
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In heaven is where the devil always hides his secrets |
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Let me teach you songs that will fare you well |
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Let me draw you maps through the gates of Hell |
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Who would kill those men on one can tell |
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The secrets of the diving bell |
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The secrets of the diving bell |
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The secrets of the diving bell |
|
Every old salt knows a song to sing |
|
When things go wrong, and things go wrong |
|
They can resurrect men with mighty hymns |
|
Cannot raise the diving bell |
|
Every old salt knows a song to sing |
|
When winds are gone, and winds are gone |
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you can fill flat sails with the salty strings |
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Cannot raise the diving bell |
|
Cannot raise the diving bell |
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Cannot raise the diving bell |
