South of the rivers mouth Migration slopes slowly towards mainland There, the salt air Fills the gills of the dead bait in hand The deep is in riot, the coastline is quiet Asleep and divided in bands While beer halls all revil, drunk and disheveled Helplessly wading the diver is down And theyre chumming the oceans The signal is sent Recieved and repsonded to The water is red, red, red, red Were downed, downed as the hand of God Chokes the driftwood with dead weight and brine And spawning the detailed decline Via dorsal cuts, hooks, sink and line The anchors have setlled, the tanks are full level The flag has been raised halfmast on the bow And harpoons are loaded, the cage has been lowered The masks on, the diver is down, now And theyre chumming the oceans The signal is sent I think hes in trouble The water is red, red, red, red
red, chumming, downed, diver, signal