Tide keeps creeping, squeezing me to row.
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Sad surrender of the summertime of my soul.
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Water will you wash me down and away.
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Carry me home, to the place where I need to lay.
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Carry you there and halfway here again.
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Trying to freeze-frame, when the second hand seems to spin.
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I wonder can you tell me how to keep on flowing to then from now.
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There's a quiet and a rest,
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It ain't that bad, but far from the best,
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And my dream keeps getting pulled away from me.
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And the time I wait will be my time to tell
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If I'm walking blind or if I'm running well,
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And my dream keeps getting pulled away from me.
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Rain crash harder, leave a ripple on my front page.
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Flood rise higher to drown out my age.
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Wave break down over me; send me walking to where I need to be.
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There's a quiet and a rest,
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It ain't that bad, but far from the best,
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And my dream keeps getting pulled away from me.
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And the time I waste will be my time to tell
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If I'm walking blind or if I'm running well,
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And my dream keeps getting pulled away from me
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Walking Blind
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| Lost Trailers |
