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The tide rolls in and smooths the sand,
Where we built our little castle hand in hand.
I'll build another castle by the foam,
A tiny one that I can carry home.
At seventeen we drew a map of gold,
With every city that our eyes would hold.
We said the future was a friendly place,
And wrote our names in every secret space.
Now the deadlines eat the Sunday hours,
And the ceiling steals the crowns from all my towers.
I fold our map inside a drawer of bills,
And measure dreams by how the mailbox fills.
The tide rolls in and smooths the sand,
Where we built our little castle hand in hand.
I used to swear that castle would hold tight,
But now I see the wind was always right.
The tide rolls in and smooths the sand,
Where we built our little castle hand in hand.
I'll build another castle by the foam,
A tiny one that I can carry home.
Now the deadlines eat the Sunday hours,
And the ceiling steals the crowns from all my towers.
I fold our map inside a drawer of bills,
And measure dreams by how the mailbox fills.
The tide rolls in and smooths the sand,
Where we built our little castle hand in hand.
I used to swear that castle would hold tight,
But now I see the wind was always right.
The tide rolls in and smooths the sand,
Where we built our little castle hand in hand.
I'll build another castle by the foam,
A tiny one that I can carry home.
