All Hands by Blues Traveler
Every time the water breaks and soaks me to the bone
I remember what I left behind by sailing off alone
Pitch and yaw through hurricane, my position is unknown
And the bell rings seven times
Salted brine, I drink it down and breathe it through my nose
No sign of land but I hang on and do my best to close
But the swirling tidal undertow keeps pulling me below
And the bell rings seven times
All hands left on deck
An icy rest is waiting at the bottom of the sea
She's tried her best to take me as I struggle to get free
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