LYRIC FOR SALE

By Ph. Ness

The Gulf Brings Me Back

(Gulf Coast Working-Class Americana — Maritime Folk / Country-Folk Ballad)

Verse 1

Three weeks offshore, diesel in my skin.
Shrimp packed under ice in the hold below.
Gulls follow the wake before the sun comes up.
Deck lights pale in the breaking blue.
Rope’s been at my palms since Tuesday.
We work the trawl in silence. No one calls.
I’ve been counting days since the last signal dropped —
her last message waits unread on my cracked phone.

Chorus

The Gulf brings me back through the breaking blue.
Bilge water seeps through the soles of my boots.
One dock light burns at the shoreline bend.
I’m coming home — don’t know what waits at the end.

Verse 2

The port trawl tore at midnight, current running hard.
We hauled what was left — half the catch gone.
Captain said nothing, marked it in the log.
I stacked the crates and kept my mouth shut.
Somewhere past Cocodrie, the signal came through —
messages stacked across the screen.
I let them scroll. I didn’t open hers.
Some things wait better for solid ground.

Chorus

The Gulf brings me back through the breaking blue.
Bilge water seeps through the soles of my boots.
One dock light burns at the shoreline bend.
I’m coming home — don’t know what waits at the end.

Verse 3

Shoreline rising — the water tower first,
then the cannery roof, then the bend in the road.
I know this approach the way I know her voice.
I look for the porch light above the dock.
It’s not on.
I keep my hand on the wheel anyway.

Bridge

The torn trawl lies across the stern in the dark.
I stitch the mesh where the panel tore through.
My phone stays face-down beside my knee.
I tie the last knot as the sun comes through.
What can be mended, I mend.
The rest can wait for solid ground.

Final Chorus

The Gulf brings me back through the breaking blue.
Bilge water seeps through the soles of my boots.
One dock light burns at the shoreline bend.
I tie her off — the window stays dark.

Outro

One foot finds the dock.
The other’s still aboard.
The phone’s in my pocket.
I haven’t opened it yet.