a soft young man wants to be a sailor
he doesn't want life to be a failure
drunk on the Pacific in the morning
a storm comes crashing in without warning
and a wave takes him off to the island of Illinois
the country he left to chase ghosts back when he was a boy
he wakes up in a dead dream every morning
takes a train into the town
buys a cup of coffee on a whole 'nother level
then sets out to have a look around
there's a silent war on the streets, man, the blood is on his hands
there's a raging loud war in his mind that he can't understand
but he's in it with others: anxious drunkards and a maritime band
that plays in his head as a cook drops some eggs in a pan
this Great Lake leads out to an ocean
the ocean seeps back into the ground
and no more words are spoken by the sailor
as he listens for that sweet salty sound
Intelligent lyrics, wicked efficient guitar work from Brian Pennington, and yet another percussive masterpiece from Jim Duffy. This is a post-rock gem from a trio of friends, relatives, bandmates. Soft Jolts
Kris Poulin and Matt Seifert whipping guitar lines and lyrics at each other over more brilliant drum work from Jim Duffy. Fans of Shellac, buckle up. Post-hardcore at its best. Soft Jolts