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Mornings taste of salt and rust
Coffee in a chipped tin cup
Boots still damp from yesterday
Coat that never quite dries up
There’s a light on the headland turning
Slow as an old man’s dream
Cutting through the gray and the grieving
Thin little faithful beam
If I don’t come home by evening
Call my name across the foam
Let that lighthouse in the distance
Show my shadow the way home
Your letter’s in my pocket
Creased
Ink run thin from sea and time
Every word a tiny harbor
Every promise half a lie
There’s a light on the headland turning
Slow as an old man’s dream
Cutting through the gray and the grieving
Thin little faithful beam
If I don’t come home by evening
Call my name across the foam
Let that lighthouse in the distance
Show my shadow the way home
I’ve seen men go down in silence
Heard their stories hit the deep
Only thing that ever answers
Is that lantern where you sleep
There’s a light on the headland turning
Slow as an old man’s dream
Cutting through the gray and the grieving
Thin little faithful beam
If I don’t come home by evening
Call my name across the foam
Let that lighthouse in the distance
Guide my shadow back to home