Submarine

Sometimes we feel alone
like the only men alive.
Sometimes even atheists pray
if they are far enough away.
Sometimes the sun is just a dream.

It's cold, so cold.
The salt and rust.
The chains in the machine.
We wait in silent darkness
inside the submarine.

Sometimes the screaming sky is black
and choked with a slimy grasp.
Sometimes the crushing world outside
is inky as a drowning eye.

(solo)

Sometimes we sense the final blast
as we nod in our icy cask,
and the clangs of the pressure's claw
and the sand of the ocean floor.
Sometimes we dream we see the sun.

It's cold, so cold.
The salt and rust.
The chains in the machine.
We wait in silent darkness
inside the submarine.