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The Bridge
Small Black
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I'm on the bridge again
Line drifts, I wave to them
Construction on the Belt again
Kids tangled up
Smoke writing from a plane
Breaking up
Far past the boardwalk stares
Stuck in the deep sand way out where
Man, I'm gutting this out
However I can
We watch the surf
From the bridge
From the bridge
An afternoon, not catching much
Salt in my teeth, and a little tuned up
Labor Day and these bums will be gone
Dry suit for them
Waiting for a break in waves
So I can get out again
We watch the surf
From the bridge
From the bridge
I'm on the bridgе again
Line drifts, I wave to them