Isoline Fade

[Verse 1]
The sodium glare off the I-16 spur
draws a new grid on the seat where you were.
Third hour past midnight, I drive with the windows down
chasing the ghost-coast past the last edge of town.
The air gets thick with marsh-rot and salt,
a fault line tremor, coming to a halt.

[Chorus]
We're living on the legend for the flood,
the ink is running, darling, in our blood.
This whole damn city's an uncorrected proof,
and the sky is folding quiet over the roof.

[Verse 2]
"Don't you get lost out here?" you asked me one July,
as the tide drew its water line across the pluff mud flats, high.
Now I trace the backroads, the unpaved relief,
for the scale of the memory, the shape of the grief.

[Chorus]
We're living on the legend for the flood,
the ink is running, darling, in our blood.
This whole damn city's an uncorrected proof,
and the sky is folding quiet over the roof.

[Bridge]
No compass works in this kind of latitude,
just the slow static hiss of my own attitude.
The map is ending, but I keep the tank full.

[Chorus]
(Vocal with countermelody)
We're living on the legend for the flood, (let the water rise)
the ink is running, darling, in our blood. (it's in our blood)
This whole damn city's an uncorrected proof, (no turning back now)
and the sky is folding quiet over the roof.

[Outro]
Off the edge.
Just off the edge of the map...