The Second Golden Age of Piracy

It's Thursday the 12th
He's got a premonition
Exorcism left him empty
There's no cure for his condition
And he daydreams
About a long lost kiss
He's run aground
On memory bliss

He's the kid who jumped the turnstile at the only game in town
Grasp caught up to his reach
Or was it the other way around?

He don't think of himself
As a troublemaker
Troublemakers never do
It's Thursday the 12th
And they're breaking ground
On a new cemetery
Across the way from the zoo

He looks out on creation
It's majestic where it's not shoddy
A world full of ideas
Men are too small to embody

The bullet from the rifleman
The arrow from the archer
Are locked into place
And prepared for departure

Been in one place for years
Only advice he's kept
When you've lost something
You retrace your steps
As the world learns
To speak in code
There's still a big bag of money
In the middle of the road

When life seems so lifelike
Look in his eyes and you'll see
A bottled ship
In the second golden age of piracy

Out where the gannets and the petrels
Patrol the sea
High above
The second golden age of piracy



Credits
Writer(s): Douglas Mckean
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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