Wrote this after visiting a friend who was living north of Boston.
"There is a line you never cross for nothin'
There is a time for beer and time for wine
There is a boy with shoes made out of rubber
There is a girl with hair made out of twine
There is a crab that walks just like a person
There is a boat whose ghost will sail this pass
The wind it howls, screamin' and a cursin'
The whistle cries and shatters you like glass
There is a man who found his love and mercy
In a town along the merry sea
Heaven's call of dying old lighthouses
Set his soul so true and yet so free
The air is clean and frigid in nor'easters
The sky is blue like jazz and old denim
Horizon's red as Valentine's and murder
And docks will dance to fishes' gospel hymns
The stars are gold and women curse like sailors
Atlantic skies can turn a cold eye blind
He walks along the salty beach at midnight
Where dreams have died and then came back to life"
