The Sea of Atlas - Sleeping At Last

Through wires and waves, our voices carry

Such careful words that we can barely speak out loud

We found an ocean when we needed land

We drowned in words when we needed a hand

So we plead for night, and the sun keeps on spilling light

There’s a fine line, a fine line in between

Our progress and our instability

We can’t help ourselves but hunt for more

A design flaw?

or the olive branch that proves the shore-

The catalyst we’ve waited for

We live and die under the thumb of fear

As though the finish line will merely disappear

If we take one less step, even to catch our breath

We once felt safe, like no cure was needed

Our vocabularies had no room for «defeated,»

But we grew up quick and became connoisseurs of it

There’s a fine line, a fine line in between

Our progress and our instability

We can’t help ourselves but hunt for more

A design flaw?

or the olive branch that proves the shore-

The catalyst we’ve waited for