Jon, the Archivist - By the Sea | Текст песни

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• Jon, the Archivist
• By the Sea

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It’s a Sunday morning / the ocean is calm / I am wandering out / with outstretched palms / a decade alone / though it feels like a week / I keep seeing your face in those of strangers I meet
What would my father think of me now / would he be proud? / would he be proud?
I tried my best to command my life
The water is cold or I imagine it might be / I watch as the sand wicks the rust off my feet / the regret seeps in at noon right on time / and I laugh to myself that I’m doing just fine / and I’m watching the boats / as they weave through the docks / and I pretend that one day they might carry me off / back to New York to find you / but what would it matter / you’d have nothing of me / you’d scoff and rain me with laughter
What would you think of me know / would you be proud? / would you be proud? / I say out loud
A hand on my wrist / a voice asks my name / I turn round to see a face defined in its shame / and you look back at me and say / I’ve been searching, oh, I’ve been searching
You hold me close / I whisper I’m sorry / you say that’s alright / we all make mistakes
I want to cry for a year / I want to cry for a thousand years
In the swell of the summer we’ll set our hearts free / as the sea opens up and is swallowing me / when the moon on the ridge extends over the trees / we can fall there together / how happy we’ll be
As the summer months die and the sun starts to set / I will lay in your arms with your hands on my head / and until the waves turn my body to rust / I will sit here beside you and know I am loved