Sea
Swing low sweet chariot, swing low
‘cos i ain’t got, no i ain’t got no place left to go
Back in the water, i hold my breath
listening to the breaking voice behind a lit cigarette
through chattering teeth my dearest friend speaks
‘i’ll have nothing left, after this, thing peaks’
His face is still, my stomach sinks
‘this might be it for us mate’, we toast and we drink
The only thing uglier than these insides of mine
are the towering twin shadows lingering behind:
the thieving hands of ticking time
are taking from me what i’d always thought would be mine
so i’ll put my organs on ice to forget for a week
that i’m crawling this dirt path towards a devastating defeat.
——-
The most personal song on the record, ‘Sea’ Is about an
evening I spent with a close friend at a beach on the
Gold Coast, we were particularly inebriated discussing
how terrifying it is to completely invest yourself in
what you create when you know you’re only getting older
and in all probably, wasting your time.
This is about uncertainty and fearing what the future
holds.
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