Dirty water in my field
In my salt marsh tears
I'm not crying for myself
But I'm riding close
I was hiding in your disguise
I was looking through your dead eyes
I don't even know what's not mine
What's not mine
Climbing, climbing
Tip the boat
Put the dish on
I was opening your door
To my
I was lounging in your disguise
I was wreathing through your dead eyes
Now I don't even know what's not mine
What's not mine