A Perfect Storm

I've been sailing this ship called Last Chance
straight through this black-squall sea of disaster,
but there's not much wind left in these sails
and I don't think that I'm willing, willing to go down with this ship.
I tried to sell my soul to the devil,
he said he didn't invest in wares this weathered.
We close our eyes, we died a long time ago,
those weren't angels singing us to sleep.
You see it was never me that I was worried about,
death will come to take you to I just pray that he takes me first.
Is there anybody out there willing to shelter us from this storm?
The fire in the lighthouse has burned out
and I know of the violence on those shores.
Those weren't angels singing us to sleep.
Those weren't angels.