The last mariner alive on the ark of the Blood Brothers
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hears the five howls of its haunting.
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One in the sail when the scales of the oil ocean glow pink.
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One in the cabin for the swollen navels of pregnant sirens,
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the fins on the backs of dead pirates.
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Three in the lookout tower for the temptation of cursed pineapples,
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the deadly lure of Piano Island.
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Oh oh oh oh oh you never know.
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The hints of phantom revolt might never ever show
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until you find yourself shaved,
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poisoned and dismembered down the throat of the sea.
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Raise the fucking flag.
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The flag of mutiny.
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Mutiny On The Ark Of The Blood Brothers
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| The Blood Brothers |