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O see the light ring through the fog |
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the herald of that distant star |
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that guides you the horizon through, |
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and fades forever when I move. |
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"Come all," it calls, "and conquer |
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while your hearts are young and free" |
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"May all who drink the sea be satisfied, |
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though all your fears are multiplied |
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by every inch of tide, |
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seek your souls before your jaded minds" |
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I've come to believe they're not the same, |
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those who would sail and who remain. |
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I've come to believe they're not the same, |
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and set to sea to spite the waves. |
