Hung on the Rocks - Dunsmuir

The sirens are gathered on the cliffs

Their numbers growing hourly

The navigator’s set fire to the maps

And soon to follow any sanity

And the chaplain is content to dance

The sea begins to boil

Charybdis awakes

Tie myself to the mast

When you’re hung on the rocks do you stand by your Captain

Or run ashore with the natives?

When you’re hung on the rocks do you tie a deadye to your neck

Or do you pray for salvation?

The denizens they take me under

To claim me as their own

As the light fades above me

I realize that I’m never going home

Still the chaplain is content to dance

The sea begins to boil

They crawl through the hull

Untie me from the mast