Believe this as you convalesce: I`m seasick.
I`m bleeding from open sores.
Four days ago, you said soon we`d hit shore.
And finally, we`ve found this land.
For all the gifts the people give,
bloody beaches and severed hands is what we return.
I`m kind of nauseous.
Either I don`t like this, or I`m still seasick.
And I find it hard, it`s so hard,
I`m finding out you`re a liar again.
(no, I never said enough)
You gave me what was never yours.
You know what? I don`t want it.
