I can untie my ropes
Drag my nets into the deep
And get away from the affairs on land
And set my sights upon the sea
But now the water is black blood
You can watch the creatures fly
As they do when there’s a storm
But if you look around
There isn’t no storm
It’s just an oil apocalypse
Now you can watch the creatures die
We can tell our grandkids
About a culture that died
And how the land and water transformed
Into an oily diseased wasteland
And the oil still comes
