Old salt leans on a brick wall low
Watching all the city taxis go
Tattered coat and a heavy gaze
Lost inside a gray Chicago haze
Basement jazz leaks a brassy sound
Sinking deep in the frozen ground
He talks to ghosts of a distant quay
Hiding from the ghost of a rolling sea
Salt water concrete in his head
Walking where the heavy currents led
Salty air in a city of stone
Sailing on a street all alone
He orders coffee in a plastic cup
Never looks at the skyline up
Tells me tales of a southern gale
And a rusted hull and a torn white sail
Salt water concrete in his head
Walking where the heavy currents led
Salty air in a city of stone
Sailing on a street all alone
The bassline thumps like a beating drum
Until his frozen fingers start to numb
He finds a rhythm in the subway grate
Tying knots to fight a heavy fate
Grease on the grill and the coffee black
He is never coming sailors back
Just a regular with a vacant stare
Breathing in the thick and smoggy air
He sees a wave in a puddle's glare
Tangles up the wind in his silver hair
One last drink before the lights go dim
And the midnight tide comes back for him
Salt water concrete in his head
Walking where the heavy currents led
Salty air in a city of stone
Sailing on a street all alone
Sailing on a street all alone
Just a salt in the stone
(Fade out with slapback echo)
