I was listening for answers that I could not really hear
When the words of a wise old Indian put a conch shell to my ear
And I took off for the ocean I was searching for the coast
Painting pictures of my visions with the words from Grandma Ghost
Hiding from the dragons, writing for the sea
Singing ballads from my childhood, a pirate's life for me
Survivors seem to function best when peril is at hand
Where the song of the ocean meets a salty piece of land
I was force fed my religion but I somehow saved my smile
Still I search the constellations and the tiny grains of sand
Where the song of the ocean meets this salty piece of land