Boots salt-crusted on the attic stair
Parcel wrapped in oilcloth wear
Brass dial fogged from breath and time
Needle stuck on a half-remembered rhyme
Sunbeam cuts the dust to gold
Story that the logs once told
Keeper's ghost don't sign for mail
Tide won't turn a rusted rail
True north don't live here no more
Spun the dial on a splintered floor
Sun rises up through the dirty pane
Needle quivers breaks the chain
We deliver we don't explain
Ink stained fingers stamp worn smooth
Counting miles in a strangers' proof
Lantern oil in a tin cup cold
Stories bought and never sold
Sunbeam cuts the dust to gold
Story that the logs once told
Keeper's ghost don't sign for mail
Tide won't turn a rusted rail
True north don't live here no more
Spun the dial on a splintered floor
Sun rises up through the dirty pane
Needle quivers breaks the chain
We deliver we don't explain
Gull cries sharp on the leaded glass
Watch the heavy moment pass
Parcel hums with a low volt hum
Destination kingdom come
True north don't live here no more
Spun the dial on a splintered floor
Sun rises up through the dirty pane
Needle quivers breaks the chain
We deliver we don't explain
Logbook entry blunt and plain
Courier crossed the window pane
No signature no wax red seal
Just the needle's broken keel
True north don't live here no more
Spun the dial on a splintered floor
Sun rises up through the dirty pane
Needle quivers breaks the chain
We deliver we don't explain
Pack the compass shoulder the sack
No signal fire no turning back
Attic window frames the sky
Watch the morning swallow the lie
True north don't live here no more
Spun the dial on a splintered floor
Sun rises up through the dirty pane
Needle quivers breaks the chain
We deliver we don't explain
Compass rests on the floorboards bare
Morning keeps its appointment there