Once I let a good friend drown
Sleeping on the job
As his ship went down
Loose lips make no sound
Broadcast from a digital lighthouse
In a bunker underground
When bureaucrats came on the scene
The waves and I disguised our
Treachery with thin masks of serenity
But I know
I must have heard him scream
I guess I must have thought
Of it as music in a dream
Zoned out on an empty quay
As the night approached
The evening painted
Impressions on the sea
Until moonlight fell
On quiet graves
And a thousand silver butterflies
Danced fearless among the waves
Zeige deinen Freunden, dass dir Papillons von Whiteroom gefällt:
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