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Broadside

A broadside is the side of a ship, the battery of cannon on one side of a warship; or their coordinated fire in naval warfare. From the 16th century until the early decades of the steamship, vessels had rows of guns set in each side of the hull. Firing all guns on one side of the ship became known as a "broadside". The cannons of 18th century men of war were accurate only at short range, and their penetrating power mediocre, entailing that the thick hulls of wooden ships could only be pierced at short ranges. These wooden ships sailed closer and closer towards each other until cannon fire would be effective. Each tried to be the first to fire a broadside, often giving one party a decisive headstart in the battle when it crippled the other ship. more »

Year:

2015

3:17

141 Views

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I see you around,
that ring around your finger says you’re better now.
I tried to find the words to say 
without letting regret
get the best of me.

Fell for you 
that summer on the east coast.
Up till dawn just doin what we want.
Standing there
with nothin but my shirt on.
Got me tongue tied 
just looking at you.

Though many come and go,
well it’s just not the same.
Comfort you’ll never know,
Baby, you’re not to blame.
I shoulda married you,
you shoulda carried my name.
Feels like I buried youth,
looks like you did the same.

It’s been years now,
and the last time that we spoke
my head was in the clouds.
These letters that I’ll never send,
no matter how they start,
I always know how they end.

Talk to me, girl, what am I supposed to do?
I’m just a little caught up 
in overcoming you.
Memories in the night that I can’t shake.
Polaroid’s in my bed
reflecting better days.

Fell for you 
that summer on the east coast.
Up till dawn just doin what we want,
Up all night,
just talking bout our future.
And if we run,
we’ll have each other’s back.

Though many come and go,
well it’s just not the same
comfort you’ll never know.
Baby, you’re not to blame,
I shoulda let you know.
Though you drive me insane,
made me a better man.
Words I’ll take to my grave.

I remember the way you said my name
and how your hands started to shake.
Your face was melting in the rain, whoa oh.
Leaning up the hood against my car,
Speaking softly in the night.
Under barely visible stars,
under barely visible stars.

Stuck on you,
that summer on the east coast.
Up till dawn
thinking I was wrong.

Why can’t I erase you?
I tried to replace you,
but I’m hearing her in every song.

Though many come and go,
well it’s just not the same
comfort you’ll never know.
Baby, you’re not to blame.
Shoulda ran after you,
chasing your car through the rain.
The tears that clouded your eyes,
now I’m just screaming at your grave.

You should’ve carried my name.
You could’ve carried my name.

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