Verse 1 (quiet) Salt in the radio, static in the tide Something’s breathing where the breakers hide Lanterns swing like nervous prayers On a cliff that’s learned to stare Pre-Chorus (building) You can hear it in the shells on the shore You can feel it in the boards on the floor Chorus (explode) Sing it to the teeth in the foam Sing it to the things that don’t come home Every wave is a warning bell Every church is a seashell Verse 2 (quiet again) Bootprints fill with silver light Washed away by something polite Postcards written, never sent From a town that came and went Pre-Chorus You can taste it in the rust and rain You can’t tell joy from a siren’s pain Chorus (loud) Sing it to the teeth in the foam Sing it to the things that don’t come home Every wave is a warning bell Every church is a seashell Bridge (drop to near silence) If it has a name, don’t say it twice If it has a face, it’s wearing mine Final Chorus (huge) Sing it to the dark offshore Sing it to the open door Every wave is a warning bell Every god is a carousel Outro (noisy, chaotic) (Static, surf, and ringing tones) Static, surf, and ringing tones Prayers made out of driftwood bones
