and the anchors fell deep, and they sat around wondering how far below they had actually shoved us...
for everytime they've called us on their own faults, for every false confession, and every forced confessional, this wave rolls over in it's grave
twitching, and still shaking from the cold, they call back their lions and all of their distant relatives cry out in horror "what made you come home, you were supposed to be heroes!"
fourteen small children stood singing from the edges of the cliffs;
songs for the sad mistress of the ships captain, for he isn't coming home, and she's waking up on the rocks below
and the anchor hit bottom, the crew stared up at the surface, wondering how far below they had actually fallen