Matthew Francis Andersen

Lyrics

Broken down motorcycles and old dogs in the rain
Empty lakes and rusting brakes, it’s a wilderness campaign
Summer tourists driving through this town like a funeral line
Neon signs can barely shine through the lofty pines

Some eyes they hold the changing of the seasons, some the deepest water of a stream
That wanders into town, takes a look around, then bye, oh baby, bye

Outboard motors, sunburned shoulders, a mayfly’s just been born
Guilty passions, six old-fashioneds, red sky in the morning
A thousand islands, perfect timing ultraviolet light
Sunken rock up in Tomahawk and the Sault Sainte locks at night

I’m searching for a reason in the beacon, I’m pulling up the anchor on this fight
A neighbor passed away, didn’t even get to say bye, oh baby, bye

Navigating antiquating late-night Lutheran humor
Finding more in an old screen door, the evenings are getting cooler
Windows storming, leaves are pouring their red and golden veins
Tip your hat and be right back but don’t forget a name

Coffee is the water in the springtime, crystal runs the river in July
The timbers gonna stand in this ever-flooded land, bye, oh baby, bye