Paws press the rough wooden floor
Wind pushes open the door
Scent of the brine in the air
White orange patches of hair
Deep in the loam of the night
Waiting for pale morning light
Salty spray hits on my skin
Now the long journey begins
Cold harbor water is blue
Searching for something that's true
Tide pulls the shoreline away
I come back home to the bay
Salty air tastes like a seed
Roots that the wild grasses need
Claws grip the edge of the pier
The sound of the ocean is near
Deep in the loam of the night
Waiting for pale morning light
Salty spray hits on my skin
Now the long journey begins
Cold harbor water is blue
Searching for something that's true
Tide pulls the shoreline away
I come back home to the bay
Kelp grows in tangles of green
Darkest of depths rarely seen
Scent of the fish on the breeze
Moving with effortless ease
Like a plant in a clay pot
Holding the only spot I got
Pushing through gravel and stone
Finding a way to be known
Cold harbor water is blue
Searching for something that's true
Tide pulls the shoreline away
I come back home to the bay
Watching the gray morning sky
Waiting for seagulls to fly
Copper and cream in the glow
Watching the heavy tide flow
Cold harbor water is blue
Searching for something that's true
Tide pulls the shoreline away
I come back home to the bay
Back to the bay.
Salt on the wind.
(Ooh, ooh)