Lay That Ghost to Rest

[good4somethingbum]

Lay That Ghost to Rest ©2016 Robert George BMI

Well, the sea has been rewarding, kind and gracious
And my fishing boat is sturdy, warm and spacious
I was listening to Guy Clark singin’ “L.A. Freeway”
On an Ampex reel to reel I bought on eBay

But I had to wonder if the sea was on the level
Would it sneak aboard an angel or a devil
Something had been moving topside like a specter
Whispering and setting off the smoke detector

And it’s clear the ocean likes to clown and jest
But the time had come to lay that ghost to rest

Well, I’ve spent my whole life salvaging and fishin’
What of mine would interest an apparition
All I had is what my sailor’s life reflected
Models, curios and junk that I’d collected

Maybe gold coins from that shipwreck near Tahiti
Davy Jones kept most of them because I wasn’t greedy
They were in a hidden lockbox for when I retired
And I never figured spirits could be bought or hired

Something else had fueled that midnight phantom’s quest
And the time had come to lay that ghost to rest

Well, I sipped some rum and mused away another late night
I recalled the time near Cuba when I caught a Great White
Hell, I fought that mighty fish at least a coupla hours
And defeated it with skill and force of will, not power

It was dark and falling stars were magical confetti
And I sliced him open with my old machete
There was starfish, tuna, driftwood and a rusty toaster
One swim fin, a wedding band and half a Sea World poster

My heart plumbed the fathoms of eternal loneliness
Cos the time had come to lay that ghost to rest

On the shelf beside a handmade schooner model
Was a ring inside an antique liquor bottle
I imagined death and true love and devotion
And I tossed that gold ring in the peaceful ocean

Then a shadow vanished where the waves began to crest
Cos the time had come to lay that ghost to rest

There’s some shark jaws mounted on the wall between my speakers
They remind me I was once a dumb thrill-seeker
And that there will come an hour when I’m swallowed
By a force that’s hungry, dark and hollow

Though I’m not a wealthy man by any measure
I might leave some trinkets that a fool would treasure
Most of it is his to keep or sell on eBay
But I’ll haunt his boat each night for “L.A. Freeway”

He’ll know when he hears me whisper songs of loneliness
That the time has come to lay that ghost to rest

Yes, it’s clear that fortune likes to clown and jest
But the time has come to lay that ghost to rest
Lay that ghost to rest…