Two Years Before The Mast Lyrics

Astronautalis Two Years Before The Mast

Two years spent before the mast and no one knows the secrets that we're hiding.
If word got loose we'd face the lash, thirteen loops they'd hold us fast in silence
Things are not always as they seem to be.. outside us..
Devil got poor Persephone but they can't take, they can't take you from me.

Mr Jones done made a mistake its all business, worst thing than a watery grave a poor rictus? A founda bonda of grain in the hole listless? A hollow half out of dismay, afraid princess? I guess I've gone soft in my age, they call it instict. The rebels get the devil to pay the cat kissing? Gonna starta noah oughta send it to the brig, but strongest not to give and still watery calm winds and all things arent what they seem to be and small wall seperating earth from eden, one rib did give eve a meaning and one snip might could keep a secret. With a short head hair and a change of clothe. Fit right in and work soak n oakem? Four Four night she'l know with the oclear.. They might slip by but with furinbosen..

Two years spent before the mast and no one knows the secrets that we're hiding.
If word got loose you'd face the lash, thirteen loops they'd hold them fast in silence
Things are not always as they seem to be.. outside us..
Devil got poor Persephone but they can't take, they can't take you from me.

Lit by the sheer...twist of her hair.. to the air.. Handsomely.. until they.. floated down among the cloud reflected on the.. glassy sea.. and when its disappeared stripped almost bare.. bathed in the.. transfixed state.. and all things are what they seem to be?.. she floated next to me... just ---- away?..

There is no knots so steadfast it wont go broke in the middle of monsoons you both dont show waiting watching the wet lips it blows so through blinded mind of the red sky in oxide. Clouds can be just as designated response blooms coupled up with stem n its stolen? Once you poke a bridge against the bulk and a world pitch pulled through your shirt with soft hands and a soak stone? Mr Jones is a poor soul who walked into a tempest and less time to pull fools hit them with whipping and head sale...? but who's the best man can end when its almost through.. so we paid our key.. for the sin of a wreckless dream.. in the scene where the secrets sleep between me and the devil and the deep blue sea..

Two years spent before the mast and no one knows the secrets that we're hiding.
If word got loose we'd face the lash, thirteen loops they'd hold us fast in silence
Things are not always as they seem to be.. outside us..
Devil got poor Persephone but they can't take, they can't take you from me.