Lighthouse

This song imagines people as ships – ships that occasionally rendezvous at shared tables or get-togethers, but most of the time are just too busy sailing their own routes. It captures that deep desire we all have for more intentional moments together, while also acknowledging the reality: life’s schedules and the need for downtime keep those connections rare.

It celebrates the fleeting moments of connection and our hopeful yet impractical wish to gather more often. The lighthouse represents the persistent desire – always shining, always willing – even when reality keeps us apart.

Lyrics

Up at dawn, the sails are tight,
Uniforms laid out in morning light.
We chart the course by schedules made,
Each island stop a field or parade.
Our ship moves fast—no time to dock,
We pass each other like ships on clocks.
But a bottle floats in the tide I scan—
A folded note: “Dinner, this Friday if you can.”

We clinked our glasses on the back porch rail,
Someone told the old joke—and we all exhaled.

The dishes are drying, the night’s winding down,
Chairs scrape the floor as they circle around.
Laughter still echoes, a flicker of light,
Before we all scatter back into the night.
“Let’s not wait so long,” is what we all say,
But time slips us by and carries the day.

We dock in gyms and meeting halls,
Trading touch for curtain calls.
Whistles blow and parents cheer,
We orbit close but never near.
With earbuds in and faces lit,
We miss the warmth for the constant grit.
Yet there on the sand, a flicker and gleam—
A lantern left lit, with a potluck dream.

Kids played tag 'til their shoes came off,
And someone sang with a voice worn soft.

The dishes are drying, the night’s winding down,
Chairs scrape the floor as they circle around.
Laughter still echoes, a flicker of light,
Before we all scatter back into the night.
“This felt so good,” we softly agree,
Then go back to drifting out to sea.

In quiet nights we finally rest,
But even peace can weigh the chest.
The screen’s warm glow, our only guest,
We scroll the depths, avoid the mess.
We build our worlds with tailored walls,
Each castle high, no common halls.
Still out in the dark, a flare cuts through—
A neighbor’s song and a barbecue.

The firepit cracked and someone cried,
Said, “I forgot how good this feels inside.”

The dishes are drying, the night’s winding down,
Chairs scrape the floor as they circle around.
Laughter still echoes, a flicker of light,
Before we all scatter back into the night.
“Don’t be a stranger,” tossed in the breeze,
But loneliness lingers long after we leave.

The porch light fades, the night turns cool,
A lullaby for the dreamers and the dutiful.
They hugged, they smiled, they meant it too—
But the tides have jobs they must return to.
No bitter heart, no hollow sound,
Just one more shell left on the ground.
We sail again—it’s what we do—
But I’ve built a beacon in full view.
And maybe, someday, someone will see
That a lighthouse waits, just quietly.