Bob Wire: Listen!

Out On the Salt

(Bob Wire)

Ednor C. Therriault

I wrote these lyrics 4 or 5 years ago, when we were vacationing on the Gulf Coast of Florida. I originally conceived it as a waltz, but that arrangement made it seem longer than George Bush's second term. I tried it with a dropped D alternate tuning, and it showed promise, but still felt kind of ponderous. David Colledge was messing around at a rehearsal a few weeks ago, and played part of this progression. I think it works. We'll add some fiddle, and maybe accordion to the final recording.

I got my first job when I was 15, / At a fish house in Indian Pass
Spent all my evenings sweeping up sand / And taking out sacks full of trash
I saved up my pay ‘til that red-letter day / When I bought a brand new used pickup truck
With a big ol' V-8 and not too much rust / I couldn’t believe my good luck

I put Apilachicola in my rear-view mirror / From the old man I was finally free
But I got no further than Port St. Joe / And a shrimp boat called the Miss Shannon Lee
I spent the next few years working that trawler / My body grew muscled and brown
One night in a tavern I was having a beer / When my future walked in and sat down

Her name was Amanda, and she was a beauty / On spring break from Florida State
When she caught me staring, she lifted an eyebrow / And I felt my heart palpitate
I bought her a drink, and she asked me to dance / While the jukebox played Patsy and Merle
After spending my whole life surrounded by oysters / I’d finally discovered my pearl

Chorus
Out on the salt, out on the salt
Say what you want, it was nobody’s fault, out on the salt

The promise of love burning deep in our hearts / We spent every weekend together
When she saw my pickup pull in every Friday / She knew that she’d love me forever
I told her stories of life on the Gulf / And she told me tales of the West
At the end of semester she flew home to Denver / And put our young love to the test

The telephone and mailbox became my best friends / As the longing took over my life
One morning it hit me like a late summer squall / I should make Amanda my wife
I worked every run that the Shannon Lee made / 80 hours in a week was not rare
I’d think of her body as the waves crashed against us / The net was her honey blonde hair

We were 30 miles out, and heading for home / When a storm came ahead of the tide
I was watching the swells, as tall as a house / When a boom knocked me over the side
Now people ‘round here say a boat can’t angry / Or possessive of one of her crewmen
But Amanda will tell you that she lost a lover / To a spiteful and jealous old woman

Chorus
Out on the salt, out on the salt
Say what you want, it was nobody’s fault, out on the salt
Out on the salt, it was nobody’s fault, out on the salt