Each must fulfill their own destiny
or drown in the seas of a fantasy.

Basically,
because being base is what we know
we'd all prefer the fantasy and
for destiny to go.

The oceans run red with the blood of the dead,
fish fingers for supper tonight.
I have drunk of the wine
upon death I shall dine
fish fingers for supper tonight.

Each night,
take to boats and
they're rammed down their throats,
freedom's not free, but they try,
some make it through,
some of them die,
more take to boats
and they try and they try
and some of them die,
freedom's not free,
not for them,
not for you,
not for me.

It must be a heresy
this thing they call destiny
I shall stick to my fantasy
and it's
fish fingers for supper tonight.