The Last Longship

Lyrics

[Intro]
The keel talks low to the cold, black water,
Timber breath and salt on my tongue.
A lonely fiddle weeps like a gull in the fog,
And I speak to the names that ride in my lungs.

[Verse 1]
Oar-scars on my palms, tar in the lines,
The last longship groans like an old bone choir.
Fires on a far-off, enemy shore
Still burn behind my eyes when I close them.
I thread each name like iron beads,
Hang them on the mast so the wind remembers.
Sea tastes of ash and a wintered sky,
And every wave tries to pull me under.

[Pre-Chorus]
But I will not give them to this grieving sea,
Not the faces, not the fragile laughter.
I bite the wind, set shoulder to wood,
Let the chords of the violin gather.
If the storm will be the judge of me,
Let the verdict come after I answer:

[Build]
I row through smoke, through ghostlight foam,
Heart like a drum, slow, then stronger.
I row with the dead in the ribs of this boat,
Each pull a vow that burns longer.
Raise the bow to the thunder’s mouth,
Let it know what I’ve sworn in stone:
I row, I row—through the howl and the cold,
For the ones I must carry home—

[Drop]
Row for the ones who never made it home. (hey!)
Row for the ones who never made it home. (hey! hey!)
Row for the ones who never made it home. (hey!)
Row—row—row—drive the oars through foam. (hey!)
[Instrumental Break] Violin screams the lost-names melody over growling tide

[Breakdown]
(Female, low and smoky)
Your letters slept in the fold of my coat,
Salt-wet script, blurred like dawn.
I sing you soft where the mast rope frays,
Bare feet cold on the boards, alone.
The sea keeps secrets, but I keep more;
I keep your laugh in the hollow of bone.
If silence is all the harbor gives,
Then let my voice be the oar-stroke’s groan.

[Build 2]
(Male + Female, rising)
We lean into weather no sailor would choose,
Breath and bowline, knuckle and nerve.
The horizon is a blade; we press to its edge,
With nothing to ask but the right to serve.
Name by name, like sparks in the rain,
We throw our fear to the undertow.
Beat the drums in the ribs of the world—
If there’s one thing left, it’s this: we row—

[Drop 2]
Row for the ones who never made it home. (hey!)
Row for the ones who never made it home. (hey! hey!)
Row for the ones who never made it home. (choir: ROW—ROW—ROW)
Row—row—row—cut the grieving foam. (hey!)
(choir, low and massive) ROW—FOR—THE—ONES—WHO—NEVER—MADE—IT—HOME
[Instrumental Break] Violin leads a war-cry melody as bass and war drums surge

[Bridge]
The wind falls out; the stars lean close,
A hush like snow on the broken mast.
We speak their names to the sleeping tide,
And send up smoke that will always last.
If the sea is a grave, it’s also a gate—
We breathe once more, then set our weight.

[Final Drop]
Row for the ones who never made it home. (hey!)
Row for the ones who never made it home. (hey! hey!)
Row for the ones who never made it home—now we carry them home. (choir: HOME)
Row—row—row—horizon breaks gold—(hey!)
[Instrumental Break] Violin lifts the melody sunward, blazing over the roaring drums
Row for the ones who never made it home. (hey!)
Row for the ones who never made it home. (choir: ROW—ROW—HOME)
Row—row—row—through light and foam. (hey!)

[Outro]
The keel kisses sand in a soft, bright hush,
Oars sleep warm on the planks like stone.
We whisper once to the waking shore:
Row for the ones who never made it home.