We creep through nets, uncertain
We lip sync threats to stow away
In this cold night clung shadows
We drift out alone
On the infinite brine
So row, row, row the accordion boat
Moving at its silence makes a sound that cuts your throat
And nothing by denouncing the loneliness of everything...
The harbor loves, loves flutters
Barnacle foam
They chatter of matters salty
And ropes swing
Sway in time
Floating and lost
With the ghosts of the tide
So row, row, row the accordion boat
Moving at its silence makes a sound that cuts your throat
And nothing by denouncing the loneliness of everything...
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