Desperate Journalist - International Waters Lyrics

I found him crying on the billboard in Los Angeles
The Searchers ran right through him on the dead leaves
Arranging flowers, oh a moveable typeface
Bought agrarian and escaped the space race
Sentimental brother falling slowly
Black the raging sea and the death that owns me
Paralysed 8 millimetre show me
How my tiny boards can get this lonely

Off the coast of Ireland, what's the point in borders
Scramble all the signals and disconnect the callers
Because miracles they don't happen here

He played the futures in a silent demonstration 
Collecting figures in studied isolation
A box of photographs a sail and a letter
Exhibited after he'd conquered the weather
Squaring circles, oh my paramour a forcefield
Romance from Grönigen, a theory and a bent keel
Elemental drifting culmination 
A life defined as a rusted numbers station

Off the coast of Ireland, what's the point in borders
Scramble all the signals and disconnect the callers
Because miracles they don't happen here

Falling over Niagara Falls
Do you think he's really seen it all

Off the coast of Ireland, what's the point in borders
Scramble all the signals and disconnect the callers
Because miracles, they don't happen here
In these international waters