April 8, 2015

Ships

 

Nicotine stains on the bloodshot cowboy
Fumbles for a lucky strike
Out of matches
Out of luck
No place to stay the night

Bargain store smile on a low rent hustler
Hitting on some local guy
Smell of whisky
Smell of fear
Her chance has passed her by

Nocturnal waifs, homeless hard luck stories
Huddled snug in their overcoats
The late shift flunkies
Caffeine junkies
Life’s debris sinks or floats

Chorus:
Every face tells a story
Every sigh, every grin
Life passes away
The time of day
While they’re waiting for their ships to come in

Vietnam vet hides his war wounds within
Struggles for a reason why
Out of answers
Out of work
No tears there left to cry

Fugitive stares out an undressed window
Neon bleeds the pavement red
Tired of running
Tired of life
Too tired to go to bed

Chorus:
Every face tells a story
Every sigh, every grin
Life passes away
The time of day
While they’re waiting for their ships to come in

Bridge:
‘In The Wee Small Hours All Nite Diner’
Just the wrong side of the tracks
It’s a refuge for the cold and the lonely
It’s a haven for insomniacs

Chorus:
Every face tells a story
I know mine’s all shades of grim
Life passes away
The time of day
While they’re waiting for their ships to come in

Yes every face tells a story
Every sigh, every grin
Life passes away
The time of day
While we’re waiting for our ships to come in
We’re all waiting… for our ships to come in

© Martin Robley 2014