Texty: Thrice. Open Water.

Ten thousand men sleep down with Davy Jones,
with stolen treasure they die.
The open water chills me to my bones,
but it's the only place that I feel alive.

The ocean fog begins to disappear,
I sense that terrible depth.
The open water is my only fear,
but I'll sail as long as I still have breath.

I'm starting to believe the ocean's much like you
- cause it gives and it takes away.
Between the devil and the deep blue sea
- I stare into the abyss.

The open water is an awful thing,
but I'm anxious 'till the anchor rests.

I'm starting to believe the ocean's much like you
- cause it gives and it takes away.