When we get back to winthrop A few miles from the airport On a plastic chair On a deck where my friends live I watch the taking off airplanes I watch the ocean waves crashing With all of this movement something's got to give
Down at the high tide Passed down through the family The fishermen gather to complain about the catch They talk about time They talk about tides The pull of the moon and the coffee deep night black And I listen to them And I listen to you And for everyone there is something never coming back
But for all that we've been through For all that we've promised Your wayward direction seems insensible Words fall off like breathless fish All flopping and scattered And hearts picked over deemed dispensible
Down at the high tide We're there for our last meal The broken loaves are still enough for all And we talk about time And we talk about tides Under the moon with the deep night coffee black I hear the dim roar of the last flight out And for someone there is someone never coming back
We talk about time We talk about tides Under the moon and the deep night coffee black I hear the dim roar of the last flight out And for someone there is someone never coming back
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