Track Insight / Lyrics
You sink your weight in salty silt,
Where rusted rings and piers were built.
Your skin is grey like winter slate,
A steady stone, a frozen weight.
The Salvia grows in cracks of stone,
A purple bloom you watch alone.
You feel the tide pull at your chain,
Through summer heat and autumn rain.
You are the anchor in the bay,
Holding the ghost of yesterday.
Deep in the mud and cold blue brine,
Waiting for one last golden line.
The fog rolls in like heavy wool,
The current gives a sudden pull.
You grip the floor of sandy grit,
While distant city lanterns light.
You are the anchor in the bay,
Holding the ghost of yesterday.
Deep in the mud and cold blue brine,
Waiting for one last golden line.
The Sedge and Rush bend to the breeze,
You hold the harbor with such ease.
No wind can move your iron soul,
You keep the broken vessel whole.
You watch the ships move past the pier,
The sound of gulls is all you hear.
You know the salt, you know the deep,
While all the sleeping sailors sleep.
The Latin names of shoreland weed,
Are all the company you need.
You stay rooted in the dark clay,
Until the coming of the day.
You are the anchor in the bay,
Holding the ghost of yesterday.
Deep in the mud and cold blue brine,
Waiting for one last golden line.
Hold the line, hold the line.
Heavy iron, hold the line.
Sinking deep in the brine.
