Cracks in the glass
Ship in a bottle
north to south
between
our lips
your wind
drowning
when my anchors down
blows the sails gently
high tide low tide
high tide low
when time floats by
in a glass
hours full
of passing clouds
be carefull
on the beach alone
in the moons light
singing otis redding
ive got nothing to live for
and looks like nothings going to come my way
with no-one to hold your hand
jumping head first
into the surf is dangerous
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