You stand by the rusted screen
Where the silver light turned green
Tires flat in the salted mud
Water thick as frozen blood
The ticket booth is locked and tight
The screen is blank against the night
The popcorn salt is blowing cold
The movie reel is gray and old
You are drifting in the rot
In a place that time forgot
Wooden ribs begin to fray
Watching all the paint turn gray
You touch a nail that's rusted red
Where the summer hopes are dead
Oily puddles on the ground
Not a single human sound
The ticket booth is locked and tight
The screen is blank against the night
The popcorn salt is blowing cold
The movie reel is gray and old
You are drifting in the rot
In a place that time forgot
Wooden ribs begin to fray
Watching all the paint turn gray
The boat is open to the rain
Sinking like a heavy chain
Plastic seats are torn and white
Underneath a dead star light
Screws are popping from the beam
Tearing open every seam
Hold your breath and feel the chill
Everything is standing still
You are drifting in the rot
In a place that time forgot
Wooden ribs begin to fray
Watching all the paint turn gray
You watch the cedar boards divide
Nowhere left for you to hide
Black water fills the hollow hull
Quiet as a bleached white skull
You are drifting in the rot
In a place that time forgot
Wooden ribs begin to fray
Watching all the paint turn gray
Just a rotten plank.
Sinking in the tank.
Order up.
