"Lost Coastlines" as written by and Will Robinson Sheff....
Packed and all eyes turned in, no one to see on the key.
No one waving for me just the shoreline receding.
Ticket in my hand and thinking wish I didn't hand it in.
Cause who said sailing is fine?
Leaving behind all the faces that I might replace if I tried on that long ride,
Looking deep inside but I don't want to look so deep inside yet.

Sit down, sit down on the proud wave bye,
There might not be another star, farther on the line.
Look out, look out at each town that glides by,
And there's another crowd, to drown in crying eyes.
And see how that light you love now just won't shine,
There might just be another star, that's high and far in some other sky.

We sing, is that marionette real enough yet to step off of that set
And decide what a dance might mean to it.
Ruining the place where the ensuing may lay escape.
We packed up all of our bags the ship's deck now sags
From the weight of our tracks as we pace beneath flags
Black and battered rattling our swords in service of some fated, foreign, war.

And Jonathan says we sail out on order of him
But we find that the maps he sent to us don't mention lost coastlines.
Where nothing we've actually seen has been mapped or outlined
And we don't recognize the names upon strange signs.

And every night finds us rocking and rolling on waves wild and wide,
Well we have lost our way, nobody's gonna say it outright.
Just go


Lyrics submitted by error_to_brain, edited by dvorax, sugarnum, bfreeby, inverarity, Kozumou, promachos

"Lost Coastlines" as written by Will Robinson Sheff

Lyrics © WORDS & MUSIC A DIV OF BIG DEAL MUSIC LLC

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Lost Coastlines song meanings
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  • +1
    My InterpretationSit down, sit down on the prow to wave bye
    There might not be another star further on the line

    We sing
    Is that marionette real enough yet to step off of that set
    To decide what her hands might be doing
    Ruining the play to, in the ensuing melee, escape

    We packed up all of our bags
    The ship's deck now sags from the weight of our tracks
    As we pace beneath flags black and battered
    Rattling our swords in service of some (faded/fated) foreign lord

    We sail out on orders from him but we find
    The maps they sent to us don't mention a lost coastline
    Where nothing we've actually seen has been mapped or outlined
    And we don't recognize the names upon these signs
    yamahasixstringon November 26, 2008   Link

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