Setting sail nfrom a crushed rooftop nfathoms deep nshallow as a raindrop nattempt to feel n20/20 now nreact like gasoline ncornered by a house firenyou can't come clean beneath the tides of the washout ncut from the filthy cloth na sucking would left in our chests nbeing burned around the heart nthe boil under your flesh nhidden at home nchasing a tucked tail now nacting on the instinct nof self haphazard yet nyou can't come clean beneath the tides of the washout nThe shaving down nin milligrams nwith a gun in your hand ndirectionless nmemories nof combat on your head nRain can't soak what is not there... nthe first thrill ndemands another nconsequence nthe trigger of the operative nplaying russian roulette with a full chamber nmiserable outcome none and the same nyou can't come clean beneath the tides of the washout