This is the accent of the half hearted land
Does it all make sense now
And if the ship was built in bottled sand
Does it all make sense now

The anchors kiss was scrawled
In dyslexic crayon
Yes it all makes sense now
Is this just a life preserver

Of a bivouac tenure
The tropic of cancer answered
Drink the quicksand
A mirror was splintered on the deck floor

Does it all make sense now
A stowaway that lived beneath this hull
Does it all make sense now
The anchors kiss was scrawled

In dyslexic crayon
Yes it all makes sense now
Is this just a life preserver
Or bivouac tenure

This tropic of cancer answered;
Drink the quicksand
It's gills will swim faster after a branch
From the shore

Breathe the taste of salt water
Dry heave up and overboard
Ponce De Leon wrinkles
Let's make it young again

Boat drinks for captains
Row our boat away stowaway
It all makes sense now

If our map was torn navigate, navigate

If your compass broke navigate, navigate