A Little Orchestra

East Coast

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A straight white line through the east coast night
A voice on the telephone
An old man passes from us
Let’s get these bodies home
 
The coastal road splits the morning air
Takes the salt out of the waves
Hold my hand, kiss me
Before we run out of days
 
And if I pass away from you
Throw me to the sea
Don’t look back at the darkened waves
That take me underneath
 
An old man at the end 
Of all the things he’s done and seen
The old man at the edge of the sea
 
Half the world is on its knees
Waiting for the light
The other half is tooled up
Spoiling for a fight
 
And the east coast night
And the summer haze
Is all you’ll ever need
Young men rise, old men fall
But never really leave
 
And if I pass away from you
Throw me to the sea
Turn your back on the darkened waves
That rise up to claim me
 
A straight white line
Through the east coast night
In the early summer haze
An old man and his grandson
Have a parting of the ways
 
If I pass away from you
Throw me to the sea
Don’t look back at the rising waves
That take me underneath