The Last Boat

The Last Boat

The boats that I’ve missed are now long down the river.
The goals of my life have all drifted to sea.
The dreams of my childhood are lost in the ocean.
Only one boat remains in the harbor for me.

And there’s rum in her galley,
and maps in the chart room.
The sails are all torn,
but they still catch the breeze.
And I’ve had some families,
and I’ve had some failures,
and I’ve had my better years
taken from me.

Now the last boat is tied to the end of the old pier.
Its captain is buried beneath an oak tree.
A tree that I planted when I was a young man.
‘Twas to be the last thing that remained here of me.

And there’s rum in her galley,
and maps in the chart room.
The sails are all torn,
but they still catch the breeze.
And I have been cheated,
and I’ve been forgiven,
and I’ve had my dignity,
taken from me.

Now I untie the ropes from the end of the old pier.
From the galley I watch my old home drift from me.
And the tree that I planted when I was a young man,
is the only thing left of what I used to be.

And there’s rum in her galley,
and maps in the chart room.
The sails are all torn,
but they still catch the breeze.
And I have been patient,
and patience is virtue,
and patience is killing,
the last part of me.

Now the pier’s out of sight, and the oak tree is fading,
And that whole damn town is now drifting to sea.
My anchor is stuck in the mud of the river,
And the chain in the water's the last thing I see.

And there’s rum in her galley,
and maps in the chart room.
The sails are all torn,
but they still catch the breeze.
And I’m in the river,
and I’m in the ocean,
and I’m finally gone.
to where I need to be.