Grope For An Anchor Songtext

Too, too many eerily empty rowboats, whose crews have fed the carnivorous seas.
I guess that passion's just a pretty useless map. Oh hope.
Help me get the felling in my hands, help me get the feeling in my feet,
I'm groping for an anchor.

I've been having these nightmares at sea, the filthy water has me.
Yes, it's slow, and that shoreline won't make it better.
Been having these nightmares, been having these nightmares at sea.
Holding splintered oars, I was a child.

Row on, the land is fooling itself.
What do I see? I see a ship not shore.
Row on, the land is fooling itself.
Way out where it's icy, I see a ship that's further out.
Row on. Row on, you're only furthering yourself,
I've got to stir the silence that I see.
Row on. Row on, you're only furthering yourself,
While bigger boats have engines. What passion burns slow?

It's a progress-troubled tide, and I'm the boy who sank her. I grope for an anchor.
It's a progress-troubled tide, yes, I'm the boy who sank her.
Grope for an anchor. Grope for an anchor.

"No more crying." He said as he rowed out.
Somewhere across the planet there lives the furthest ship at sea. Oh hope.
Get me out there, I will climb, climb, climb aboard.
Good things come to those who sweat, and not to those to the manor born.
Hands, unlock and thaw, just take me away from stocks and war.
Rowing isn't earning yet, but effort I can afford.

I've been having these nightmares at sea, the filthy water has me.
Yes, it's slow, and that shoreline won't make it better.
Been having these nightmares, been having these nightmares,
Been having these nightmares at sea.

It's a progress-troubled tide, and I'm the boy who sank her.
I grope for an anchor.
It's a pogress-troubled tide, yes, I'm the boy who sank her.
Grope for an anchor. Grope for an anchor.