Winter at the ocean
Tucking in at the lodge
Order a cup of coffee and nod off
The waitress she tells me there’s no power where she lives
Her husband is a logger
She’s got three kids
The gift shop’s selling handmade hats somebody’s mother knit
They’re selling fast, but I got what I could get
And how long have I been coming here?
I guess I was sixteen
Smoking cigarettes
Leaning on a dream
And I once passed an old man walking on the beach
I looked at him and he looked back at me

O, just leave me here
I’ll be fine
Standing here shivering might slow the passage of time
Nobody knows me here
It doesn’t matter what I think
I could be thirty-four or I could be sixteen

I could sign the guest book
Write someone else’s name
I could jerk off in my room or walk in the rain
There's a painting of a grand old ship hanging in the hall
Pointing bravely onward through the squall
Isn’t there another place to hang this?
A bathroom or a garage?
Or over a bonfire like a log?
And how long must I return here?
Don’t I have better things to do than to walk around aimless, sand in shoe
And there’s plenty of young lovers here getting keys to their rooms
Some look like me
Some look like you