Our grave danger built of lights and motors strikes the locals hypnotic
As we swept the sick off of our infested ship in a dazzling display of logic

We drink the water we sail on
So drink it up sailor, sail on

We are all wrong

Bullet trains are bringing home our soldiers to find their families trampled
With the weight of the fiber optics placed inside the soil samples

Surveillance for the chapel door
Oh lord, keep safe our imperfect form

There is no port from the storm
No shelter from the wrong I've brought along
And I've caused it all

We are all wrong

I've seen so little light
In the grip of constant night
Track my life by satellite
'Cause lord, I'm lost

Our season is at an end
We'll burn every bridge to keep this ship sailing on


Lyrics submitted by punkpirate

Third Atlantic song meanings
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