Loose lips sink ships.
Salt sips rose hips.
All along, it was the ocean's song
That called me down to listen to her.
Standing drenched by a 40 ft. coral fence.
A swiftly dripping ripple.
Watching saltclouds billow. Brimming and brand-new.
Down below, I will follow what bubbles tell me to.
All along, it was the ocean's song
That called me down to listen to her.
Swirling still, in a SweetWater Kill.
A swiftly sifting riptide.
You know that old song. From far
Far away. Not too long. Drifting along.
Down in SweetWater.
Dead weight sink straight.
Why?
All along, it was the ocean's song
That called me down to listen to her.
Standing still in a SweetWater Kill.
Down in SweetWater.