Old ship, give me your hands
Im the cape that came to crush and snag you on my sands
Below the ocean, and from my point of view
You were always drinking, and drunk well before noon
And dreaming on my pillow of high tide
But Id allow you
Old friend, give me back my hands
Im the crutch thats missing, and youre the crippled little lamb
Those claws will get you; those teeth will take your life
But you wont know whats missing
This gift aint giving. This wolf aint worth the fight