Tyrants - D-A-D

The noise that breaks the sleep, it’s deep calling the deep

The ship goes up and down

All the curtains drawn, the lamps are early on

On top, a hundred dawns

The day we stayed inside, the trunks began to slide

Nor awake or nor dressed

Portholes dark and green, over the side into the deep

You know if you haven’t guessed

Six white sharks and the sailors sing — out loud

Wouw wouw wouw

Another tyrant will rise

Wouw wouw wouw

Violent sea, violent skies