Anchorage (New Moon Baby)
Sandpipers prick the grey mudflats of Anchorage
That extend their filth a quarter mile into the sea
An overloaded Piper Cub hops rabbitlike into a cloud
Smoke trails high above, and sediment below me
I sat and watched the diving birds
Fish the placid bay in Charleston
Asked a young guy in the street
Where you drink if you look like me
There's not too many on the street
With five days' beard in Charleston
But you can buy a vodka that tastes just like sweet tea
From the one room with no windows
To the other with no bed
One messed with my pocket
The other with my head
One man can live on bread alone
I should know, 'cause I've tried
But if you live on bread alone
You'll probably die
Yellow propellor biplane pulling circles overhead
Take me back to Brooklyn, back to our four-post iron bed
I can't be away from you, no, I can't be alone
I know I've been away too long, I'm coming home.
Yellow propellor biplane pulling circles overhead
Take me back to Brooklyn, back to our four-post iron bed
One man can live on bread alone
I should know, I've tried
But if you live on bread alone
Then you die
New moon baby, your voice is steady on the phone
I'm coming home
Each day was one long road
It made sense to be alone
Each days' trip was one long road
As long as I kept moving, it made sense to be alone
I can't be away from you, no, I can't be alone
'Cause with you I've found a home.
That extend their filth a quarter mile into the sea
An overloaded Piper Cub hops rabbitlike into a cloud
Smoke trails high above, and sediment below me
I sat and watched the diving birds
Fish the placid bay in Charleston
Asked a young guy in the street
Where you drink if you look like me
There's not too many on the street
With five days' beard in Charleston
But you can buy a vodka that tastes just like sweet tea
From the one room with no windows
To the other with no bed
One messed with my pocket
The other with my head
One man can live on bread alone
I should know, 'cause I've tried
But if you live on bread alone
You'll probably die
Yellow propellor biplane pulling circles overhead
Take me back to Brooklyn, back to our four-post iron bed
I can't be away from you, no, I can't be alone
I know I've been away too long, I'm coming home.
Yellow propellor biplane pulling circles overhead
Take me back to Brooklyn, back to our four-post iron bed
One man can live on bread alone
I should know, I've tried
But if you live on bread alone
Then you die
New moon baby, your voice is steady on the phone
I'm coming home
Each day was one long road
It made sense to be alone
Each days' trip was one long road
As long as I kept moving, it made sense to be alone
I can't be away from you, no, I can't be alone
'Cause with you I've found a home.
Credits
Writer(s): Franz Alexander Nicolay
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2025 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.