The moorings creak,
The gales roll by;
I'm Davy Jones,
I cannot die.
The waves beat down,
The crew is gone;
My heart beats on,
My heart beats on.
Holes in the sails
Are stories told,
Of battles lost,
And wounds grown cold.
Bound to the helm,
I'm cursed to roam;
The sea is home,
The sea is home.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 10:09 PM UTC
The moorings creak,
The gales roll by;
I'm Davy Jones,
I cannot die.
The waves beat down,
The crew is gone;
My heart beats on,
My heart beats on.
Holes in the sails
Are stories told,
Of battles lost,
And wounds grown cold.
Bound to the helm,
I'm cursed to roam;
The sea is home,
The sea is home.
