Over Wide open deep sea Men toil on the trireme The stream Pulls us astray according To our sun stones
The sail and the hull are silhouettes As we consult The stars and the stones The captain's eyes Are fixed in place And the course is staying the same
With our charts all full of emptiness We're sailing towards nothingness Not a slightest bit Keen to admit that we're A ship in distress With our charts all full of emptiness We're sailing towards nothingness Here's the irony In all this foolery We are calling it progress
Is there After the edge of the earth An endless fall We all Have heard the stories But we have closed our ears
As many hands as there are sailors Are pointing in discord There's no clear Outspoken fear But it is starting to set in
Somewhere Beyond the skyline The ocean comes to an end We fend Off the uneasy feeling That we're drawing near
