Track Insight / Lyrics
Windows shatter, glass scatters on the floor
Tugboat tangled, limp in a greenhouse door
My skipper's stuck, cursing like a sailor's horn
Sweat dripping down, unable to untwist this unfurled storm
Time ticks on, the engine sputters to a halt
Adrift in this garden, brittle shards on the vault
Gently the leaves, a poisonous array
Ensnared beneath the rain, as darkness descends to ravage
Stuck in the greenhouse, marooned by the night
Fading lights, the world outside, just out of sight
Water pooled around, the tugboat's moored fate
Can I weather the downpour and break free before it's late?
Nestled amidst spikes, the metal hull astray
Dew collects, the clamor of falling, each droplet to say
Piercing chill, my captain's resolve starts to waver
Will this encased ship founder, just a heap of metal avaser?
The silence deepens, a moment's pause now grown long
As splintered shards keep company, a morose perpetual song
Pools of glass, some intact, others glistening with might
A warning of mirrors shattered, in this dark of night
Stuck in the greenhouse, marooned by the night
Fading lights, the world outside, just out of sight
Water pooled around, the tugboat's moored fate
Can I weather the downpour and break free before it's late?
Creaks and groans, the barge shifts, then stalls
Trapped in this claustrophobic vice of petrified thralls
Rain drums against the roof, a relentless refrain
A fragile barrier breached, as the towline feels the strain
For a moment still, suspended in this bone-chill air
The world outside crumbles, without a single care
Yet in this frozen heart, somehow, a spark remains
A stubborn resilience, as the rain keeps on raining
Stuck in the greenhouse, marooned by the night
Fading lights, the world outside, just out of sight
Water pooled around, the tugboat's moored fate
Can I weather the downpour and break free before it's late?
Stuck in the greenhouse, battered but unbroken
Riding out the tempest, as the morning's unspoken
When the storm subsides, and the sun begins to rise
I'll find my way free, though the shackles may not demise
(A gentle putt-putt of the tugboat engine reviving)
