Old iron hull in the salt spray
Waiting for the tide to sway
Beyond the fence where the weeds grow
Where the heavy garden seeds blow
He listens to the clover bloom
In the workshop's quiet room
Steel heart beating in the deep
While the tangled brambles sleep
A rusted wrench on a pine board
A hidden key and a frayed cord
The tugboat dreams of a dry land
Touching grains of golden sand
He listens to the clover bloom
In the workshop's quiet room
Steel heart beating in the deep
While the tangled brambles sleep
The ivy climbs up the brick wall
Watching every autumn leaf fall
The engine hums a low steady tune
Underneath a pale winter moon
He listens to the clover bloom
In the workshop's quiet room
Steel heart beating in the deep
While the tangled brambles sleep
The dock is cold and the wind is keen
The harbor water looks dark green
But in the yard where the vines wind
Peace is the only thing to find
He listens to the clover bloom
In the workshop's quiet room
Steel heart beating in the deep
While the tangled brambles sleep
Green and gold, salt and rust.
Turning iron into dust.
