Stove by a Whale

Sailing on the sea, it's teal, your meal was alright
But not the captain's voice, it made me shake and squirm
Not in what you hear, but feel, surreally thrust between
What accents mean and what you think they should

And I'm not talking 'bout just being a mile up in the air
And I'm not talking down to people who are living there

But stateside at the quay, you fear the nearness of that
Auld familiar distance between everyone and you
The distance keeps us safe from waves of subcutaneous problems
That our governments and our accents and our parents have us swimming in until all that sin has soaked us through and through and through and through and through

And I'm not talking to the people who've been in jail
And I'm not talking 'bout just wanting to belong somewhere
And let's not talk about the color of your eyes or your hair
I'm talking 'bout, talking 'bout the color of the sea from way up there