Black coffee in styrofoam.
Salt in the air.
Salt on my skin and in my hair;
from the sweat of day.
The ferry turns left.
We charge into the mystical southern darkness;
guided by signals unseen.
Black coffee in styrofoam.
Salt in the air.
Salt on my skin and in my hair;
from the sweat of day.
The ferry turns left.
We charge into the mystical southern darkness;
guided by signals unseen.
