Cedar planks on a tiled floor
Drifting past the sliding door
No more salt and no more spray
Just the grit of a city day
I am rowing through the white light
Searching for a current in sight
Sailing on a subway track
Looking for a way to go back
Iron rails are my new shore
I can't find the open door
Empty benches, cold and gray
Wait for trains to clear the way
Wooden ribs begin to creak
While the rusted pillars speak
Three am wind in a hollow hall
Waiting for the tide to fall
I am rowing through the white light
Searching for a current in sight
Sailing on a subway track
Looking for a way to go back
Oars are hitting paving stone
In a station all alone
Heavy water, heavy air
Finding nothing anywhere
Turn the bow to face the west
Give the tired timber rest
Underneath the yellow glare
Floating in the static air
I am rowing through the white light
Searching for a current in sight
Sailing on a subway track
Looking for a way to go back
Sailing on a subway track
Looking for a way to go back
