I lived where the salt spray blows
Where the cold Atlantic flows
My cedar ribs were tight and lean
The finest hull you ever seen
Now I drift on the wooden floor
Far away from the sandy shore
Sailing slow through the hallway door
I don't need the ocean anymore
The thunder broke the heavy sky
The black clouds rolled a mile high
The river climbed the garden wall
And gave a sudden, roaring call
Now I drift on the wooden floor
Far away from the sandy shore
Sailing slow through the hallway door
I don't need the ocean anymore
I floated past the rocking chair
With brine and wetness in the air
I bumped the rail and scraped the pine
A strange and sudden shoreline line
Now I drift on the wooden floor
Far away from the sandy shore
Sailing slow through the hallway door
I don't need the ocean anymore
The rain beat down a steady drum
Until the morning light had come
I settled in the entryway
Where golden beams of sunlight play
No more nets and no more oars
No more fighting distant shores
Just the smell of old pine wood
Standing where the doorway stood
The water sank back to the creek
My weathered joints began to creak
I'm anchored to the kitchen mat
A heavy, water-logged old flat
Now I drift on the wooden floor
Far away from the sandy shore
Sailing slow through the hallway door
I don't need the ocean anymore
Sailing slow, sailing slow.
On the porch where the lilies grow.
