bottle it up

all the time I drown

ashamed of all I am and I’m never

gonna flip the mood and reverse the tide now

that I’ve washed up with a fistful of seaweed

and a mouthful of salty quips I find my chest

engraved ingrained shell after shell that opened

my eyes and borne the truth that I’m no great

swimmer but hell I’ll kick

and whirl my arms until somebody calls

me a dancer who’ll tread for a while

as long as I’ve got

words whipping round to sound in the current I’ll

wait for a message to come by and it better be

for every wreck there’s an iron lining

you can make it steel if you’re willing

at the end of the day you’ll never want them to

say you’re beautiful

no they’ll say

you’ve got force kid

I think you’re meant for the sky

don’t you