You hold a card from forty-four
A faded ink and open door
The edges curl in salt and gray
You watch the river wash away
The bridge is steel and cold and white
It cuts the fog and kills the light
You stand there where the current flows
While every salted memory grows
Wait for the lamp to hit the shore
I cannot hold the line no more
Tear up the page and let it fly
Beneath a heavy winter sky
The ink is blurred by ocean spray
You keep the ghosts of yesterday
A handwritten and jagged line
A broken clock a frozen sign
Wait for the lamp to hit the shore
I cannot hold the line no more
Tear up the page and let it fly
Beneath a heavy winter sky
The oil is low the glass is cracked
The tide is pulling every fact
Run through the mist and find the gate
Before the morning seals your fate
Your fingers shake against the glue
The postcard tells a truth so true
The water churns a muddy brown
The heavy anchor pulls you down
The fog is thick as wooly wool
The river gives a steady pull
You throw the paper to the deep
Where all the sunken sailors sleep
Wait for the lamp to hit the shore
I cannot hold the line no more
Tear up the page and let it fly
Beneath a heavy winter sky
Keep the light on
Keep the light on
Wait for the dawn
(Group shout)
Hey!
