You left it by the garden wall
Where the ivy grows too tall
The wood is grey and stripped of gold
A story that is left untold
The varnish peeled away in strips
Like salt upon a sailor's lips
The case is cracked and open wide
With nowhere left for songs to hide
Oh, you are the rusting bow
With a song that will not flow
Sleeping in the tangled weed
A melody that no one needs
The silver strings are turning brown
Deep inside this quiet town
The maple back is scarred and thin
Letting all the dampness in
Oh, you are the rusting bow
With a song that will not flow
Sleeping in the tangled weed
A melody that no one needs
I kept the lamp light burning bright
To guide the ships through every night
But you are anchored in the clay
While the current pulls away
The workshop door is swinging slow
Where the winter breezes blow
You wait beneath a heavy vine
Crossing every rusted line
The resin dried into a stone
Standing in the grass alone
A wooden ghost of what was known
A seed that never once was sown
Oh, you are the rusting bow
With a song that will not flow
Sleeping in the tangled weed
A melody that no one needs
Just a piece of weathered wood.
Still waiting where you stood.
