You tie the ropes in heavy gray
The harbor mist hides all the way
You watch the red clay walk the shore
Where sailors walked a century more
Oh, the red brick tide is pulling low
Where the salt and the autumn go
Hold the line till the winter wind
Where the harbor and the city bend
You see the gold on every leaf
The season turns a sudden thief
You scrub the deck with frozen hand
Looking back at the steady land
The copper domes are turning cold
A story that the current told
You trace the lines of weathered stone
Standing there in the spray alone
Oh, the red brick tide is pulling low
Where the salt and the autumn go
Hold the line till the winter wind
Where the harbor and the city bend
Cold water hits the iron hull
The screaming of a lonely gull
You feel the pull of the harbor deep
A promise that you swear to keep
The ferry groans against the pier
The end of every working year
You watch the bricks turn dark and wet
A heavy sun that hasn't set
Oh, the red brick tide is pulling low
Where the salt and the autumn go
Hold the line till the winter wind
Where the harbor and the city bend
Red brick tide.
Pulling low.
Hold the line.
