There's a good man living in a bottle by the sea
The people and days seem to float away
Into surrounding streets.
But he keeps pulling at the same loose thread
If you can't abstain there will come a day
When inertia claims it's debt.
But this can't be
He can't be dead, can he?
All those years of woolgathering...
"You better see the shrink
You better take the pills to sleep
And if you listen to what she says
It just might change the way you think."
Do you think there's a God who helps
Those who learn to help themselves?
Tell me how could a man in the sky
Ever have changed the way he felt?
Eventually all that I can see
Is the old man and the sea
Beckoning me
The old man and the sea
Waiting for me.
Now I drag my friends
Into benders that don't end
I keep seeing his face in the mirror now
I feel his tremble in my hands.
Pushing through a wayward world
That takes pictures of itself
Just to throw a little more of our integrity
Into a digital wishing well.
Oh how profound!
I'd prefer not to be around
With the old man and the sea
Beckoning me
The old man and the sea
Waiting for me.
Is there nothing we can do
About that distant blue?
We needed more from you
You needed that blue.
I was nine months old
When your mother took her life
She laid by the side of your father
Neither could be revived.
Now there's no more pain
No more of those memories
No more trauma to flood away
And that's a beautiful thing
I'm still your son
Your bones and blood
And nothing else can come between us.