Hear that sound,
As the rain beats down,
On the roof of our old summer home.
There'se an old wind chime,
And an up for sale sign,
And the grass in long overgrown.
Waves crash against the coast,
While old ghosts
Are still haunting me.
Though the blindes have long been drawned,
Or whatever went on,
In that old summer home by the sea.
So farewell,
To the crabes and shells,
On the rocks, on a cold windy day.
And the little boy's shemes,
And the rush of nicotine,
And the boat we set free in the bay.
As the moon tugs upon the tide,
Sad and wild eyes,
Are still haunting me.
Somwhere deep down in my bones,
I will always feel alone,
In that old summer home by the sea.
Though the bindes have long been drawned,
Or whatever went on,
Somwhere deep down in my bones,
I will always feel alone,
In that old summer home,
By the sea.

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