Ocean Is Theory Oh Broken Son
A ship’s safe in its harbor.
It’s a shame you don’t try harder.
Ye of little faith, where’s the wind in your sails?
Is it hope that you’re after?
I’ve never seen you run faster.
If this is all we’re searching for are we lost?
I’m a ship that’s lost its coordinates in a sea of your grace.
I’m not coming back, not coming back.
I’m a ship that’s lost its coordinates in a sea of your grace.
I’m not coming back, not coming back.
Tonight, we’re veiled in disguise.
What have we become? Just liars and thieves.
We try our best but still we can’t believe.
What have we become?
Just scandals and priests.
Reflecting everyone we try so hard to please.
I’m a ship that’s lost its coordinates in a sea of your grace.
I’m not coming back, not coming back.
I’m a ship that’s lost its coordinates in a sea of your grace.
I’m not coming back, not coming back.
I want my ashes in the sea.
I want you to remember me as a man with a heart, who loved those in need.
And didn’t say “I was busy doing other things, but now I’m coming clean.”
And I can hear the angels sing. Singing,
“Hallelujah broken son. Mend the hearts of broken ones. Hallelujah broken son. Mend the hearts of broken ones. Hallelujah.”
