Fear of loss from having lost is a trip. And I wont have any part in it just to get a dip. Her lip. A red crimson that faded with every new ship. She left me at the dip. Now I am higher than ever having tea time slip. Im a lonely pirate and no crew is upon my swords tip. Its time to get back to sailing as the sun gives us the whip. We are what we are and what is that drip? Its the sweat of our brow that we smear off as we continue to finish in a jip. The sun is setting behind the mountains double nip. Napal under the new ocean because the sun gave us the flip.
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Your words struck me deep. And reopened new wounds that needed to bleed out. A trip down memory lane and a red line down empty streets. I feel like giving a shout.