Atlantis from Balaclava Weather by Balaclava Weather

The prince is dead,

I saw it with my own my eyes.

Buried his body in the heart of a coal mine.

And I don’t think that I could have lived like this

While I dribbled over my teenage Atlantis.

Growing compressed

But he chewed the hand from the wrist and kept moving,

Despite the disapproval.


It’s brutal how futile it seems,

'Til you’re left stitching wounds with these silver linings.

It’s brutal how crucial it seems,

'Til you’re left stitching wounds with only these silver linings.


My child's dead,

It happened before my time.

Burned his body on the funeral pyre.

And I don’t think that I could have lived like this,

Always terminal by the way he drinks,

But there ain’t much

That feels like love.


It’s brutal how futile it seems,

'Til you’re left stitching wounds with these silver linings.

It’s brutal how crucial it seems,

'Til you’re left stitching wounds with only these silver linings.

• Electronic
• Pop
• Synth Punk
• Bundeena