Walt Grace, desperately hating his old place,
Dreamed to discover a new space
And buried himself alive,
Inside his basement, the tongue on the side of his face meant
He's working away on displacement
And what it would take to survive

'Cause when you're done with this world,
You know the next is up to you

And his wife told his kids he was crazy
And his friends said he'd fail if he tried,
But with the will to work hard
And a library card,
He took a homemade, fan blade, one-man submarine ride

That morning, the sea was mad and I mean it,
Waves as big as he'd seen it
Deep in his dreams at home
From dry land he rolled it over to wet sand,
Closed the hatch up with one hand
And pedaled off alone

'Cause when you're done with this world,
You know the next is up to you

And for once in his life it was quiet
As he learned how to turn in the tide,
And the sky was aflare
When he came up for air,
In his homemade, fan blade, one-man submarine ride

One evening, when weeks had passed since his leaving,
The call she'd planned on receiving
Finally made it home
She accepted the news she'd never expected,
The operator connected
A call from Tokyo

'Cause when you're done with this world,
You know the next is up to you

Now his friends bring him up when they're drinking
At the bar with his name on the side,
And they smile when they can
As they speak of the man
Who took a homemade, fan blade, one-man submarine ride