what can i say? im a fuckin g
We sent out the S.O.S. call.
It was a quarter past four, in the morning
When the storm broke our second anchor line.
Four months at sea. Four months of calm seas only
To be pounded in the shallows off the tip of Montauk Point.
They call them rogues. They travel fast and alone.
One hundred foot faces of God's good
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