Lickin' The Razor Clean

All set adrift on an ocean of dreams Rise in the tide and far off sound of thunder Any attempt to paddle upstream Is met with snaking hands that pull you under High in the nest there's a crackle of heat The rhythm shifts from one side to another Rattle of sail and aloft in the breeze A mariner's saint comes at you with an offer Drifting for weeks on end Whispers of loss and long forgotten shadows Visions of reaching land Follow the shape of you in running water Casting your net by the light of the sun The moon in the sky the only thing to guide you A darkening shape has you on the run Something old awakens from the bottom Castles all made out of sand Blood and sweat are pound for pound all taken The next one to take your hand Will lead you to the place you meet your maker Shifted into the sand All run aground and sailing in a bottle The next one to take your hand Might wake you into the daylight of tomorrow Drizzle it in a dream Douse it in gasoline  Cut out of every scene Cuz you're licking the razor clean