1,2,3...

and if i could swim,
i'd swim out to you in the ocean,
swim out to where you were floating,
in the dark,
and if i was blessed,
id walk on the water youre breathin,
to lend you some air for that heavin sunken chest,
cause they chose you as the model for their empty little dreams,
with your new head and your legs spread like a filthy magazine,
and they hunt you and they gut you and you give in,
and if i was brave,
id climb up to you on the mountain,
they led you to drink from their fountain,
spouting lies,
and id slay the horrible beast they commissioned,
to steer me away from my mission to your eyes,
and i'd stand there like a soldier with my foot upon his chest,
with my grin spread and my arms out in my bloodstained sundays best,
and you'd hold me,
i'd remind you,
who you are, under their shelves...

i'd walk through hell for you,
let it burn right through my shoes,
these soles are useless without you,
through hell for you,
let the torturing ensue my soul is useless without you...

and if they send a whirlwind id hug it like a harmless little tree,
or an earthquake,
i'd calm it,
and i'd bring you back to me,
and i'd hold you in my weak arms like a firstborn...

i'd walk through hell for you,
let it burn right through my shoes,
these soles are useless without you,
through hell for you,
let the torturing ensue my soul is useless without you...

Now id walk through hell for you.
Whats an adventurer to do but rest these feet at home with you?

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