Part time cleaner in a holiday flat
I stare out to sea at the ships at night
No anaesthesia
I'm gonna work on it day by day
No zephyr or light relief, it seems
But maybe it's a dream
I'm lying back in a row of timber cases placed out
On the dock with nightmare faces looking at me
And I can see now, and I wanna be free now
This is my home
This is my sea
Don't paint it with the future, of factories
I want to stay
I feel okay
There's nothing else as perfect
I'll have my way
We're all sinking in our own mud
We're all sinking in our own mud
Brought up in a world of changes
Waste product, pedestrian, limb from limb
Short-changed by the surfing priest again
Two children in the harbour
Play their game stormwater drain
Write their contract in the sand, it'll be gray for life
But you can draw the blinds
But you can't stop the sun
From shining on and on and getting you there
The tide forever beckons you to leave
But something holds you back
It's not the promise of the swell or a girl
Just a hope that someday someway it'll be okay
You stop and say
This is my home
This is my sea
Don't paint it with the future of factories
This is my life
This is my right
I'll make it what I want to
I'll stay and I'll fight
And I'll stay and I'll fight
Acoustic