Portland, Maine

Ropes looped around my limbs
Tied to a bag in which
I drag along behind me
The shame of generations
It obliterates my footprints
And makes it harder to advance
But as long as I keep up this play
They will never see me sweat
Oh, they will never see me sweat
I carry the weight of attention on my shoulders
A state that once frightened me to death
Now gives the comfort of meaning
And a sense of alignment
I would otherwise miss
I draw lines in the sand
Just to cross them and say
«There was never a chance to make it»
The atlantic be my witness
I’m too deep in this
I collect all the things
Washed up to the shore
That were lost in the vast, open ocean
In the hope to find that one piece
I can hold onto
I carry the weight of attention on my shoulders
A state that once frightened me to death
Now gives the comfort of meaning
And a sense of alignment
I would otherwise miss
Roots anchored in the soil
Wrapped 'round the bodies of
The ones that toiled beside me
To be never forgotten
To be covered in the sawdust
Of a benchmark to the sea
But as long as it won’t leave this port
They will never know my name
Oh, they will never know my name
I draw lines in the sand
Just to cross them and say
«There was never a chance to make it»
The atlantic be my witness
I’m too deep in this
I collect all the things
Washed up to the shore
That were lost in the vast, open ocean
In the hope to find that one piece
I can hold onto
I draw lines in the sand
Just to cross them and say
«There was never a chance to make it»
The atlantic be my witness
I’m too deep in this
«There was never a chance to make it»