two sailing ships took a trip
across the great divide
one got stuck the other hooked
and shared its full supply
two swallows flew in skies of blue
and dreamt of golden evenings
but storm winds blew and off one flew
without as much as grieving
I’ve been those swallows
been those ships
but rarely it’s that simple
we want the lot
not what we got
and when we’re hurt we’re fickle
we feel the time you lost it
said we’re selfish we are wrong
blinding us to what is good
in all the carry on
for you my suit of armour
have cast anchor by my side
but today as I was naked
I speared your phantom hide
and I guess that you could feel
like different skin tonight
as all the things I’ve done
play havoc with our minds