Arms Of The Sea - Textures

Man, born

Locked down by the water

Hear the rustle spat out from the corner

As we are thrown

Right into the arms of the sea.

Sheer bliss.

The dense cold collides

The cliffs loomed up in the distance

As they exhale, inhale.

We must be born anew

To paint our portraits like the way we are

We must learn to breathe again

To reach the core of patterns in our souls.

Maybe we are something we are not

It gives us a reason to be The spine of our soulless approach

That gives us a reason to die.

Grand your light to the sun

And turn your back on the shells

At the shores, the sea.

Sow your seeds into the soil

And recall the ideas that we shared

In the years that we spent to progress.

Oversee to be free, mesmerize

And try to embrace the arms that come forth

By the days of resurgence stream.

Change me Drain all blood from the wounds

And sleep your woes, slumbering

Shed your skin and swim

Right into the arms of the sea.

The waves lifting, rising from the oceans

The undertow breathes again

As we are thrown

Right into the arms of the sea.

The dense cold collides

The cliffs loomed up in the distance

As they exhale, inhale.

Maybe we are something we are not

That gives us a reason to be The spine of our mental approach

That gives us a reason to live.