I'm a lonely sailor, down four pitchers,
I'm high and low, how often I don't know.
I'm to take commands, I'm not on my own,
Days with bacchanals, nights with dark.
A deserted sailor, with a salient dream.
Whom I'm to speak with? The sea?
I've lost my tongue, I've lost me.

A pure path leading to the moon,
I hear the echolocation of whales,
It's the only company I can think of.
Threats passing within miles, with sharp red lines,
A twisted fate, I dream dancing on my grave.
I get old, I'm ranked high, my pockets are full.
My heart is dry, and smiles are wry.
Whom I'm to speak with? The sea?
I've lost my tongue, I've lost me.