This tone, the strain on the sunrise Disguised in the mist this morning, it's 8amThe seagull shouts, the sailors are warning This sky, this band in the riverSlows down and delivers me, the tide rolls back And all my memories fade to blackAnd yet, and yet, I'm backThis town has a strange magnetic pull Like a homing signal in your skullAnd you sail by the stars of the hemisphereWondering how in the hell did you end up hereIt's like an underground river or a hidden streamThat flows through your head and haunts your dreamsAnd you stuff those dreams in this canvas sackAnd there's nothing around here that the wide world lacksAnd yet, and yet, you're backSome nights I lie on the deckAnd I just don't know what to doI stare at the turning of the starsThose constellations hanging up thereFrom the cables and the riggingI'd wonder if she saw the sameOr managed to recall my nameWhy would she ever think of me?Some boy she loved who fled to seaAnd why waste time debatingWhy waste time debatingWhether she'd be waiting for the likes of meSo you drift into port with the scum of the seasTo the dance halls and the brothels where you took your easeAnd the ship's left the dock but you're half as caringAnd you haven't got a clue whose bed you're sharingAnd your head's like a hammer on a bulkhead doorAnd it feels like somebody might have broken your jawAnd there's bloodstains and glass all over the floorAnd you swear to God you're drinking no moreAnd yet, and yetIn truth, it's too late to find herToo late to remind her at some garden gateWhere a servant tells me I should waitPerhaps a door slammed in my faceMy head must be in outer spaceAnd yet, and yetBefore the sun has setBefore the seaThere may be something else that's waiting forThe likes of meFor meFor meFor meFor meFor meThis town, the strain on the sunrise