The ocean doesn't want me a day, but I'll be back tomorrow to play.
The strangers will take me down deep in their prime.
The mischievous brain-chose down into the endless blue wine.
I'll open my head and let out all of my time.
I'd love to go drowning and to stay and to stay, but the ocean doesn't want me a day.
I'll go in up to here, it can't possibly hurt.
All they will find is my beard and my shirt.
The riptide is raging, the life's guards away, but the ocean doesn't want me a day.
But the ocean doesn't want me a day.
The ocean doesn't want me a day.
I was only nine years old, I had no longer smell, but without the law, without the education, the motivation.
I wanted to be, I wanted to be, but I was here and never was the same location.
I started getting older, I took it on myself, to find out why I'm leaving again.
But I can't find a conclusion, so I think I'll get closer.
Yeah, I don't get closer, but my wall's still closed down.
I used to be, I'd smoke and do anything for someone's attention.
But when that changed, I guess you thought that I was no longer me.
But I'll find you there, me to take the other part, me to put it back to you, me.
You make real friends quickly.
You make real friends quickly, but not me.
You make real friends quickly, but not me.
You make real friends quickly.
You make real friends quickly.
You make real friends quickly, but not me.
You make real friends quickly.
You make real friends quickly.
You make real friends quickly.
