This Is Hell

Dearest Midge
I'm writing this while on the high seas And I mean higher than the days we spent shooting the breeze This ship is rolling quite a bit But you know me, I'll never get sick (never get sick) I wish I could tell you where I'm going But I think it's pretty clear (think it's pretty clear) I wish I could tell you I'm sailing home But that is not the case I fear (never get sick) That's not the case (never get sick) Dead last in this race Ten months since I've seen your face Lord how I miss you... This ship trudges away from the center of my heart And if not for these cards I'd be fucking dead This ship trudges away from the center of my heart And if not for these cards I'd be fucking dead From Letras Mania