Talking to myself in a land locked parking lot. Cough drop dripping from my mouth like a long shot. My writers block ink oh. Sick of all the small talk dripping non-stop. From the open mouth graves of the faux-hawk cinderblock malls. My blood clot pen oh. Or maybe I could break clean. Yeah maybe I could break clean. When I'm on your shore again. I can feel the ocean. I can feel your open arms. That pure emotion. I'm finally free again. Like my own explosion. When I'm on your shore again. I can feel the ocean. Saltwater running through my veins like a blind spot. Like I got caught saltwater like a tear drop. With a saltwater heart oh. It's an abstract thought but I've been thinking non-stop. About the fact that my body's made most out of rain drops. With a saltwater heart oh. Or maybe I could wash clean. Yeah maybe I could believe. When I'm on your shore again. I can feel the ocean. I can feel your open arms. That pure emotion. I'm finally free again. Like my own explosion. When I'm on your shore again. I can feel the ocean. Oh Oh Oh. Maybe I could wash clean. Maybe I could wash clean. All land locked dreams. Maybe I could believe. When I'm on your shore again. I can feel the ocean. I can feel your open arms. That pure emotion. I'm finally free again. Like my own explosion. When I'm on your shore again. I can feel the ocean. Yeah Oh Oh Oh. I can feel the ocean