Hush of the dark, a silver seam
Harbor lights blink like tired dreams
I breathe in brine, I breathe out blame
And let the morning learn my name

Rope bites soft into my skin
As if the water answers back again
Each loop I lift, the world leans close
A quiet tug from undertows
The sky turns pale, then almost gold
No sermon given, none foretold
Still warmth arrives, a small relief
Dusting my fingers like belief

I used to think the sea was empty air
Just blue, just wide, just there
But it keeps a count I cannot see
And it keeps it patiently

Let the day come clean, let it come slow
Like light through fog on a window
I trade my hours for a little more
Than I can carry to the shore
If mercy is real, it’s not a shout
It’s the tide that turns without a doubt
And I stand here, learning what it means
To live with what I didn’t release

I mark my weeks in frayed-down twine
In rusted hooks and salted lines
Small arithmetic of work and wear
A pocket full of sea-cold prayer
But somewhere deeper, something tallies
All the almosts, all the sorries
All the doors I didn’t choose to kick
All the hearts I held too quick

Some nights I swear I hear a choir
Inside the wires of the trawler
Not holy, just the sound of trying
And the sound of not denying

Let the day come clean, let it come slow
Like light through fog on a window
I trade my hours for a little more
Than I can carry to the shore
If mercy is real, it’s not a shout
It’s the tide that turns without a doubt
And I stand here, learning what it means
To live with what I didn’t release

Ooh, the water writes and rewrites me
Ooh, and I pretend I cannot read

Faces pass in coastal bars
Like constellations with missing stars
I nod, I smile, I never ask
What stories hide behind each mask
There are names I should have known
Floating past like driftwood bones
There are promises in bottles, sealed
That I was too afraid to feel

Once, the horizon clenched its teeth
And every gull forgot to sing
I waited for the sky to break
For punishment, for something big
But the tempest turned and lost its nerve
Or maybe I was spared on purpose
Now I carry that unanswered roar
Like an anchor under the floor
Not regret, not peace, but something dense
A weight made out of consequence

So I keep my hands busy, keep my head low
Let the current say what I won’t show
I hold my breath when the water goes still
Like the world is deciding if it will

Let the day come clean, let it come slow
Like light through fog on a window
I trade my hours for a little more
Than I can carry to the shore
If mercy is real, it’s not a shout
It’s the tide that turns without a doubt
And I stand here, learning what it means
To live with what I didn’t release
To live with what I chose to keep

Count the quiet, count the deep
Count the love I couldn’t speak
Morning finds me, seam by seam
Salt in my mouth, and a gentler dream

Ooh… seam by seam
Ooh… a gentler dream