You steer past the charted shoals
Where compass needles lose their poles
Salt wind cuts the canvas sail
Marble ribs rise pale and frail
White stone shore you found it first
White stone shore the oldest verse
No fare collected no return
Just pillars where the tide lines burn
White stone shore
You log the column's fluted grain
Fossil shells in ceiling stain
Sextant reads a latitude
No empire marked on altitude
White stone shore you found it first
White stone shore the oldest verse
No fare collected no return
Just pillars where the tide lines burn
White stone shore
Rope coil ready at your feet
Anchor dropped in silt so sweet
Rations weighed in copper tin
Long haul starts where maps give in
White stone shore you found it first
White stone shore the oldest verse
No fare collected no return
Just pillars where the tide lines burn
White stone shore
Night shift brings a phosphor glow
On capitals you'll never know
Weather turns the sky to lead
Dead head miles still lie ahead
Steering wheel is tiller wood
Dashboard holds a driftwood good
Radio picks up static hymns
From civilizations lost to rims
Dawn breaks on the column row
You plant the flag no king bestows
Logbook closed the entry done
Last fare paid by rising sun
White stone shore you found it first
White stone shore the oldest verse
No fare collected no return
Just pillars where the tide lines burn
White stone shore you claim the turn
White stone shore the map won't learn
Meter stops on white stone shore