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my father used to sing a song about the ties that bind us:
a man tied to his home
and a man tied to moving on,
and the question of love or glory.
in the song,
the lock-keeper had his son
and the sailor had his stars.

what i am saying is that i have spent my whole life leaving.
what i am saying is that every place i land, i hope it’s the last.
what i am saying is i wish i weren’t the sailor,
but you won’t understand why until it’s far too late.

i want you to know: i have found new love every time i land,
but i have never yet caught up to glory.