I see sailboats finding better shores
Ships built with three masts or more
Other men fat off the catch they bore
And I'm wondering how long I've been anchored for
Diesel from the harbor is thick in my breath
Pushing out what fresh air I had left
Salt water rusts the parts I need to fix this busted up machine
Currents pull but I try to keep the canvas clean
Soon sails will fill with hopes of reaching home
That storms will break and make way as you roam
Keep land to your starboard side and be weary of the tide
I yell from my barstool in this cold northeastern dive
I see sailboats finding better shores
Ships built with three masts or more
Other men fat off the catch they bore
And I'm wondering how long I've been anchored for
My first years on the coast I saw ghosts about to crack
Carrying storylines pre written on their backs
Hopped a freighter hauling cargo to try to find a different end
But here I am again
Cemetery near my house is getting full
Established names fill almost every row
Familiar faces leaving roses take traces of the stone
Tending to the ground they plan to be below
I keep my eye upon the wind to take me out
When an easterly comes through to get me South
I’ll cut the mooring line and say goodbye to the shore as I move on
To the deep, darkened waters where I belong
I see sailboats finding better shores
Ships built with three masts or more
Other men fat off the catch they bore
And I'm wondering how long
I’ll see sailboats finding better shores
Ships built with three masts or more
Other men fat off the catch they bore
And I'm wondering how long that I’ll be anchored for