Baskadia

Dry Land

If there was a someone, An island upon which to rest, I'd beach myself so gladly, From this ocean I detest, Be my refuge from the tides, They drag me under often, I wish to wake upon dry land, Marooned at daylight's dawning. If your arms are my salvation, I'll shipwreck this drowning heart, Be glad to wade through waves, To make a brand new start, There has to be a sand bar, Upon which I'll stand and view, Much better things to come, I only pray those things mean you.