Beachcomber’s Boneyard

Walking the dry shoreline / Where the waves forgot to crash

Picking up the pieces / Of a future turned to ash

A skull here, a rib there / A spine curled like a question mark

Each one held a brain that dreamed of water / Now it holds the dark

Beachcomber's boneyard / I walk it every day

Collecting what the ocean left / Before it went away

I string the skulls on fishing line / Hang them from my board

Every bone's a memory / Of a world that wasn't bored

Found a child's skull yesterday / Still had a tooth inside

The jaw was frozen open / Like it tried to drink the tide

I held it up to my ear / Thought I heard a wave

Just my own blood rushing / Just the sound of a lonely grave

Beachcomber's boneyard / I walk it every day

Collecting what the ocean left / Before it went away

I string the skulls on fishing line / Hang them from my board

Every bone's a memory / Of a world that wasn't bored

They say the dead don't dream / But I dream of them

They say the tide won't turn / But I turn with the wind

I am the beachcomber / The last one on the shore

And when I die / Leave my bones / So someone finds one more

Beachcomber... beachcomber...

Walking where the water was...

Beachcomber... beachcomber...

Collecting what the ocean does...

[whispered:] Nothing. It does nothing now.