Call It In

I'm drowning on shore

See it happen in slow mo

A cliché, I know

Don't know where to stir

Need to call it in

Sides are wearing thin

Nothing to hold on

North Street, take me home

Cut's open, it's raw

The water, it burns

So tired, so cold

The eye of the storm

Need to call it in

Sides are wearing thin

Nothing to hold on

North Street, take me home

Small pocket of bliss

So brittle, it rips

Can't see the lighthouse

Lungs filling up fast

Cut's open

Cut's open

Cut's open

Cut's open and it's rotting