Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Cold salt on my tongue Tar smoke in my hair Old rope New blood In the teeth of the air There’s a name on the wave That the gulls won’t speak And the moon turns her face From the hull of this creak [Chorus] Black tide Green shore Will we see them Evermore? Raise your glass Count your scars Sing for the drowned beneath the stars Black tide Green shore Hear them knocking at the door Keep your back to the mast ’Til the dead wind passes past (hey!) [Verse 2] Cards cut in the galley Three kings All bones Lantern swings wide On a deck of old stones There’s a hand on the rail Cold as winter peat But there’s nobody standing Where the sea and shadow meet [Chorus] Black tide Green shore Will we see them Evermore? Raise your glass Count your scars Sing for the drowned beneath the stars Black tide Green shore Hear them knocking at the door Keep your back to the mast ’Til the dead wind passes past [Bridge] [Low fiddle and drum build under half-sung chant] Who sails west Sails out of time Who speaks the oath Forgets the line Who tastes gold Forgets their name Who drinks deep Will burn like flame (ohhh) [Chorus] Black tide Green shore Will we see them Evermore? Raise your glass Count your scars Sing for the drowned beneath the stars Black tide Green shore Hear them singing from the floor If they call you by your name Do not turn Don’t turn again
Tags
folk, Brooding Celtic sea shanty meets modern folk; low male vocals over hurdy-gurdy drone, bodhrán pulse, and octave mandolin. Verses stay hushed and close, with unison gang shouts on key words; chorus swells into layered harmonies and stomps. Fiddle weaves eerie modal lines, whistle takes a brief counter-melody in the bridge. Production leans raw and intimate, like voices in a stone-walled tavern during a storm., celtic, shanty
Duration
3:00
Instrumental
No
Created
3/22/2026