The Ocean Songtext
von John Greenwood

A broken land left far behind
A war that faceless men designed
Sacrificed everything
Except our lives and the clothes we′re in

Strangers crowded on the sea
I pull my children close to me
Icy wind and freezing water
Nature offers us no quarter

It doesn't matter where we land
′Cos the people there will understand
We flee from hunger
Flee from war
Desperate for some foreign shore
To raise my children, make a life
Not living balanced on a knife
Finding a dream of home


With engine dead, the growing waves
Determine how the boat behaves
Water spills across the side
Relentless with the surging tide

The moon that lit our growing fear
Chooses now to disappear
Behind the clouds that quietly formed
And herald in the coming storm

It doesn't matter where we land
'Cos the people there will understand
We flee from hunger
Flee from war
Desperate for some foreign shore
To raise my children, make a life
Not living balanced on a knife
Finding a dream of home
Just finding a dream of home


Tiny fingers, cold and pale
Lose purchase on the flimsy rail
Helpless, blind, my son and daughter
Slide into the foaming water
Frightened voices, desperate, sing
To whichever cruel god they cling,
But deity and man spectate
Complicit in our awful fate

I live through the darkest ages
Back and forth through history′s pages
Tried to walk a mile in their shoes
In search of truths
One mile, one truth
Shines the loudest
That nation′s epochs stand the proudest
Built by those they would not have known
Had they stayed home

Come placid blue and morning air, no sign that we were ever there...

Living in the darkest of ages
Despair as we lay down the pages
Keep them out! is our final solution
Denying natural evolution

Comments pages; judge and jury
Experts of the Daily Fury
Can't see that home′s not where you're from
But to where you′ve upped and gone

Online sages, armchair racists
Take care to bravely hide their faces
Eminently qualified
To countenance a genocide

"Give those struggling foreign sons
A taste of righteous naval guns
Protect what I deserve by birth
My ancestors got here first!"

It seems to matter where we go, 'cause on the foreign shore they don′t want to know,
The things we've lost and the way we've suffered, they don′t care,
They think we can′t make a life without stealing theirs,
If we don't beat the ocean, then c′est la vie,
We're not their problem when we′re out at sea,
This was our dream of home.
This was our dream of home.