Eric Bachmann Man O War
Floating in the cold water the ghosts of sorrow haunt the deep
Reaching down to drag the ruins and roam the lone deserted streets
Of an old abandoned temple buried in the narrow strait
Off the coast of Tarifa, Spain
Gypsies scatter through the desert across the Atlas Mountain Range
Hoaring remnants from the Devil from the Empires iron reign
While cluttered down the mouths of rivers widowed lovers bathe and clean
Silken scarves embroidered for their brand new Queen
And every time she rises up the ocean sinks
Her memory drags a drape of a thousand angry stings
And like the moon doesn't mind if the sun doesn't shine
The sea doesn't care if you're lonesome tonight
Like the love that she gives condescendingly tries
In its way to comfort you
Set adrift into her swarm-man o war
Caught up in her dangling sting-off the shore
Of a foreign brown sand beach as blue as bottles cover you
Many messengers and rebels have come and gone without a trace
And many more will come tomorrow and many more will be erased
Cause out beyond the docks of Rota upon the bottom of the sea
Along the miles of copper cable from the Gulf of Cadiz
They tap the lines to hear the sounds that start the songs the rebels sing
And drag a net to seine the bottom for the purse the bastards bring
And like a lion don't mind if a lamb takes her time
A beast doesn't care if you surrender tonight
Cause a beast knows she'll get what she wants in good time
What she wants all in good time
Set adrift into her swarm-man o war
Caught up in her dangling sting-off the shore
Of a foreign brown sand beach as blue bottles cover you
