Walt Grace, desperately hating his old place
Dreamed to discover a new space
And buried himself alive
Inside his basement, 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 a 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