I sit on blocks of rotting pine
The salt has etched a jagged line
My paint is peeling grey and old
A story that is rarely told
I am the eye in the overgrown green
The rustiest king that you ever have seen
Watching the ivy climb up the wall
Waiting for winter to make the leaves fall
The workshop door is hanging low
Where wild red clover starts to grow
I see the weeds choke out the path
A garden feeling summer's wrath
I am the eye in the overgrown green
The rustiest king that you ever have seen
Watching the ivy climb up the wall
Waiting for winter to make the leaves fall
The old man left his wrench behind
A heavy tool of stubborn kind
It sits inside a bucket red
While all the garden beds are dead
I am the eye in the overgrown green
The rustiest king that you ever have seen
Watching the ivy climb up the wall
Waiting for winter to make the leaves fall
The oil is thick inside my pan
I remember when I had a plan
To pull the barges through the bay
Now I just watch the fading day
The winch is frozen shut and tight
I hold my ground throughout the night
No more tide to push me home
No more white and salty foam
The thistles poke through rusted steel
I forgot how the currents feel
But I will stand until the end
The only ghost the garden tends
I am the eye in the overgrown green
The rustiest king that you ever have seen
Watching the ivy climb up the wall
Waiting for winter to make the leaves fall
Just a boat on the grass
Watching the seasons pass Hold the line!
Hold the line!
