Old cedar planks and a rusted chain
Hiding away from the summer rain
Tied to a post by a weathered rope
Holding a ghost of a sailor's hope
Under the pier where the tide runs low
Watching the heavy current flow
Smelling of brine and a salty breeze
Swaying along with a gentle ease
Swaying slow in the harbor shade
Where the colors of the summer fade
Salt in the air and a wooden hull
Crying out loud like a lonely gull
Barnacles cling to the belly black
Waiting for someone to bring it back
Oars in the bow and a chipped red paint
Sinking deep down like a tired saint
Swaying slow in the harbor shade
Where the colors of the summer fade
Salt in the air and a wooden hull
Crying out loud like a lonely gull
The wind kicks up and the pilings shake
Deep in the belly the old boards ache
Cold water rises to touch the floor
Waiting for light on a distant shore
Coffee is black and the grill is hot
Counting the things that the winter forgot
Rough hands and grease on a diner plate
Watching the water and playing with fate
Small wooden boat in a concrete cage
Writing a story on a yellow page
Hiding from wind in a sheltered bay
Waiting for someone to sail away
Swaying slow in the harbor shade
Where the colors of the summer fade
Salt in the air and a wooden hull
Crying out loud like a lonely gull
Salt water shelter. Swaying slow.
Swaying slow.
