Well, I fell out with you around the time of the Supermoon
In a whirlpool of lies and some high greedy tides
That swallowed what remained of your pride
A capsized silhouette against a sunset copper red
Well, no one's gonna climb, well, no one's gonna climb
No one's gonna climb this sounding line
By the mark twain at two fathoms
By the deep six at six fathoms
I am slowly sinking down
I am slowly sinking down
I was always holding my breath as if there wouldn't be any left
You were to me a ringing fever in my head
An old letter tucked inside a book I've never read
I've made a home some place you'd never want to stay
300 miles or 100 league away
I'm not leaving any clues when I leave this afternoon