Cedar planks are peeling thin
Letting all the salt air in
Tied with rope that's gone to gray
Watching as it floats away
Cracked glass panes and rotting wood
I would fix it if I could
Rowboat drifting by the door
I don't need it anymore
Greenhouse walls are jagged lines
Holding onto dying vines
Shattered shards upon the floor
I can't find the open door
Iron nails are turning red
Better off if we were dead
Sinking slow into the mud
Washing out in one big flood
Cracked glass panes and rotting wood
I would fix it if I could
Rowboat drifting by the door
I don't need it anymore
Oil lamps burning low and dim
Sinking past the cedar rim
Wave a hand to all the ghosts
Hanging on the wooden posts
Salt is biting at the frame
Neither one of us to blame
Just a boat and broken glass
Waiting for the storm to pass
Cracked glass panes and rotting wood
I would fix it if I could
Rowboat drifting by the door
I don't need it anymore
Just a boat and broken glass
Let the winter weather pass
