Track Insight / Lyrics
Copper leaves on a salted street
Worn out leather on tired feet
He holds a map of a ghost coastline
I watch the meter and the white line
The air turns sharp like a winter blade
The golden light begins to fade
Oh, the red brick tide is pulling low
Nowhere left for a soul to go
Sailing home on a city square
With a heavy heart and a salty glare
He talks of gales in the North Atlantic
The way the rigging gets wild and frantic
I tell him roads are just rivers of stone
Two old ghosts drifting here alone
The air turns sharp like a winter blade
The golden light begins to fade
Oh, the red brick tide is pulling low
Nowhere left for a soul to go
Sailing home on a city square
With a heavy heart and a salty glare
He sees a harbor in a paving stone
A secret language that he's always known
I see a fare that will never arrive
Just two strangers keeping a spark alive
The wind kicks up and the clouds turn grey
The harbor bells call the ships away
Steel and iron and the scent of pine
Crossing over a phantom line
Oh, the red brick tide is pulling low
Nowhere left for a soul to go
Sailing home on a city square
With a heavy heart and a salty glare
He tips his cap to the autumn breeze
Counting anchors by the maple trees
I shift the gear and I slow the pace
Reading the maps on a weathered face
Oh, the red brick tide is pulling low
Nowhere left for a soul to go
Sailing home on a city square
With a heavy heart and a salty glare
Red brick tide, rolling slow.
Let the winter wind blow.
