Johnson
Anchors and missions might take you away
Stealing all your time and your willingness to stay
And amongst the pitiful and breaking our pact
Was a noted turbulence stored in your back.
Checking the sails ninety miles in
Arranging all your lies in a pattern of gold pins
And to play the commodore and fake all your lines
Is to say we're minimal and not worth your time.
Goodbyes are hard, the more selfish you are.
Checking the letter and keeping your sights
Believing all the souls that supported you this time
And to act so innocent, switching us out
With a sea of chemicals, slumped as you spout.
All your farewells, all your farewells, all your farewells
All your farewells, all your farewells, all your farewells
All your farewells, all your farewells, all your farewells
All your farewells, all your farewells, all your farewells.