'No more crying.' He said as he rowed out to a horizon 
thatNo one sees and all with passion for a map. Oh 
hope.
Help me get the feeling in my hands. They're to be 
pampered
For a cruise, if I don't break nails groping for an 
anchor.
I've been having these nightmares at sea, the filthy 
water has me.
Yes, it's slow, but that shoreline won't make it 
better.
Been having these nightmares, been having these 
nightmares at sea.
Holding splintered oars, I was a child.
Too, too many eerily empty rowboats, whose crews have 
fed the carnivorous seas.
I guess that passion's just a pretty useless map. Oh 
hope.
Help me get the felling in my hands, help me get the 
feeling in my feet,
I'm groping for an anchor.
I've been having these nightmares at sea, the filthy 
water has me.
Yes, it's slow, and that shoreline won't make it 
better.
Been having these nightmares, been having these 
nightmares at sea.
Holding splintered oars, I was a child.
Row on, the land is fooling itself.
What do I see? I see a ship not shore.
Row on, the land is fooling itself.
Way out where it's icy, I see a ship that's further 
out.

I've got to stir the silence that I see.
Row on. Row on, you're only furthering yourself,
While bigger boats have engines. What passion burns 
slow?
It's a progress-troubled tide, and I'm the boy who sank 
her.
I grope for an anchor.
It's a progress-troubled tide, yes, I'm the boy who 
sank her.
Grope for an anchor. Grope for an anchor.
'No more crying.' He said as he rowed out.
Somewhere across the planet there lives the furthest 
ship at sea. Oh hope.
Get me out there, I will climb, climb, climb aboard.
Good things come to those who sweat, and not to those 
to the manor born.
Hands, unlock and thaw, just take me away from stocks 
and war.
Rowing isn't earning yet, but effort I can afford.
I've been having these nightmares at sea, the filthy 
water has me.
Yes, it's slow, and that shoreline won't make it 
better.
Been having these nightmares, been having these 
nightmares,
Been having these nightmares at sea.
It's a progress-troubled tide, and I'm the boy who sank 
her.
I grope for an anchor.
It's a pogress-troubled tide, yes, I'm the boy who sank 
her.
Grope for an anchor. Grope for an anchor.