Morning fog clings to the pilot house glass
I watch the steam rise from the kettle's brass
The tug's red eye cuts a path through the gray
Its beam paints the wall where I rock in my chair
Tugboat light in my kitchen window
Steady and slow where the cold winds blow
No lens to polish no watch to keep
Just the tug's red glow while the city sleeps
Thirty years I trimmed the wick at dawn
Polished the glass until the night was gone
Now the harbor pilot blows his horn
And the tug's red beam finds me here alone
The mate waves coffee from the wheelhouse door
I raise my mug and shout for one more
No storm to ride no wreck on the shore
Just a quiet rhythm on the kitchen floor
Tugboat light in my kitchen window
Steady and slow where the cold winds blow
No lens to polish no watch to keep
Just the tug's red glow while the city sleeps
The lens is dark in the tower above
No oil to carry no stairs to climb
But the tugboat beams with a steady love
And I anchor here in borrowed time
Evening settles on the pier and quay
The kettle whistles end of day
The tugboat winks as it passes by
One more watch but I'm not the guy
Tugboat light in my kitchen window
Steady and slow where the cold winds blow
No lens to polish no watch to keep
Just the tug's red glow while the city sleeps
Tugboat light you're the watch I keep
Kettle sighs the harbor answers
Tugboat light steady and slow
