The Lighthouse at Low Tide - Dreamy Psychedelic Surf Rock - Full Album

Ajouté : 2026-06-09

[00:00:00]Heat. Heat.

[00:00:40]Beyond the dunes, past the sleeping grass, there's a lighthouse on the shore line, built from mirrors and cracked glass.

[00:00:58]Nobody remembers when it first appeared.

[00:01:06]Some say it rose from the ocean.

[00:01:11]Some say it was always here.

[00:01:18]And every evening when the sea retreats, the air grows still.

[00:01:25]The girls go quiet.

[00:01:30]And then when the tide goes out, the lighthouse sings.

[00:01:40]When the tide goes out, the lighthouse sings.

[00:01:49]Nobody knows what it means.

[00:01:55]But everybody listens when the lighthouse sings.

[00:02:22]Old fishermanmen stop talking.

[00:02:27]Children leave their games.

[00:02:31]Even the wind seems hesitant.

[00:02:36]as if it knows the name of something almost remembered.

[00:02:46]Something nearly found.

[00:02:50]A dream that slips away again. The moment it makes a sound.

[00:03:00]The water pulls, the shadows stretch, the shor line holds its breath.

[00:03:09]And then when the tide goes out, the lighthouse sings.

[00:03:20]When the tide goes out, the lighthouse sings.

[00:03:29]Nobody knows what it means, but everybody listens when the lighthouse sings.

[00:04:03]Some hear laughter.

[00:04:08]Some hear warnings.

[00:04:12]Some hear voices calling from another summer.

[00:04:22]Some hear nothing.

[00:04:27]But stand there anyway, waiting.

[00:04:35]When the tide goes out, the lighthouse sings.

[00:04:44]When the tide goes out, the lighthouse sings.

[00:04:53]Nobody knows what it means, but everybody listens when the lighthouse sings.

[00:05:33]Don't heat Heat.

[00:06:09]Heat.

[00:06:16]Across the bay, beyond the harbor lights, past the reach of lanterns and the memory of the shore.

[00:06:32]Music drifts through the darkness, soft as falling rain.

[00:06:39]Nobody sees the musicians, but everybody knows the sound.

[00:06:47]The fishermen stop mending nets. The dogs start barking at the moon.

[00:06:57]And somewhere in the mist, they begin to play a tune.

[00:07:10]The lost orchestra playing through the fall.

[00:07:17]The lost orchestra playing for nobody at all.

[00:07:24]The lost orchestra somewhere beyond the waves.

[00:07:30]Playing songs nobody taught them.

[00:07:34]playing songs of those who were not saved.

[00:08:08]Old Mrs. Harper swear she saw them 30 summers back.

[00:08:17]100 pale musicians standing where the sea turns black. A conductor made of moonlight, a violin of driftwood bone. But every year the story changes like the changing of the tide and the changing of the mind.

[00:08:49]The harbor bells grow quiet.

[00:08:52]The night air holds its breath and somewhere in the mist they begin to play a tune.

[00:09:07]The lost orchestra playing through the fog.

[00:09:14]The lost orchestra playing for nobody at all.

[00:09:22]The lost orchestra somewhere beyond the waves playing songs nobody taught them.

[00:09:32]Playing songs of those who were not saved.

[00:09:39]Some hear songs of lovers.

[00:09:47]Some hear wars.

[00:09:54]Some hear the voices of those they lost calling from the waters deep.

[00:10:09]The lost orchestra playing through the fog.

[00:10:16]The lost orchestra playing for nobody at all.

[00:10:24]The lost orchestra somewhere beyond the waves.

[00:10:30]Playing songs nobody taught them.

[00:10:34]Playing songs of those who were not saved.

[00:10:56]Heat. Heat.

[00:11:04]Oh yeah.

[00:11:56]Every full moon she comes walking down past The sleeping harbor, past the silent town.

[00:12:09]Lantern in her left hand, a basket in her right.

[00:12:15]Searching down the shoreline for pieces of the night.

[00:12:23]No one knows her name.

[00:12:26]No one knows her door.

[00:12:29]But everyone has seen her walking by the shore. She's the moon collector gathering silver light. The moon collector working through the night.

[00:12:48]Piece by piece she carries it away till the beach grows dark and the dawn arrives again.

[00:13:27]Children used to follow, leaving footprints in the sand, but she'd always disappear before they reached her hand.

[00:13:39]Old fishermen still whisper when the tide is running low that the moon would fall to pieces if she ever chose to go.

[00:13:52]No one knows her story.

[00:13:55]No one knows her home, but every full moon evening, she's never quite alone. She's the moon collector.

[00:14:09]Gathering silver like the moon collector, working through the night.

[00:14:18]Piece by piece she carries it away till the beach grows dark and the dawn arrives again.

[00:14:34]Sometimes on clear evenings when the sea is calm and still you can see her lantern moving.

[00:14:53]Far beyond the distant hill.

[00:14:58]And for a moment, the whole world glows as if she's gathered every lost reflection anyone has ever known.

[00:15:30]She's the moon collector gathering silver like the moon collector working through the night.

[00:15:44]Piece by piece she carries it away till the beach grows dark and the dawn arrives again.

[00:16:39]Yeah. Yeah.

[00:16:50]Beyond the dunes, where the sea grass bends, past the old fence line, where the shore line ends.

[00:17:10]There's a carousel that appears in storms turning in the darkness while the thunder roars.

[00:17:30]The old folks say, "Don't follow the sound."

[00:17:39]They say that it's the last ride of those who've drowned.

[00:17:48]Riding pretty horses down beneath the ocean waves.

[00:17:58]Round and round the last summer carousel.

[00:18:08]Round and round, ringing through the rain.

[00:18:18]Round and round last summer carousel.

[00:18:28]Bringing back the things that never came.

[00:18:49]A baker wrote it in 73.

[00:18:54]came home laughing at memories of a seaside girl and a wedding day that never happened anyway.

[00:19:08]A fisherman swore he saw his son running through the surf in the setting sun, though he'd never had children, not even one.

[00:19:27]Nobody knows if the ride is kind or if it simply gives you what you hope to find.

[00:19:45]Round and round the last summer carousel.

[00:19:55]Round and round ringing through the rain.

[00:20:05]Round and round the last summer carousel.

[00:20:16]Bringing back the things that never came.

[00:20:25]If you listen, you can hear the laughter carried on the wind between the thunder.

[00:20:43]Like a memory, looking for a home.

[00:21:01]Round and round the last summer carousel.

[00:21:10]Round and round ringing through the rain.

[00:21:20]Round and round the last summer carousel.

[00:21:31]Bringing back the things that never came.

[00:21:53]Hey, hey, hey.

[00:22:40]after the storm.

[00:22:43]When the sea turns calm and we all walk slowly down along the shore, looking for driftwood, looking for shells, looking for things the tide won't tell.

[00:23:03]And every now and then someone finds a letter tangled in the sea grass left behind.

[00:23:19]The paper is dry.

[00:23:23]The ink is still blue as if it arrived only moments ago.

[00:23:36]Letters from the bottom of the sea, washed ashore again.

[00:23:45]Letters from the bottom of the sea, signed with love from those beneath.

[00:23:53]Letters from the bottom of the sea, carried up by the tide.

[00:24:01]Nobody knows who wrote them.

[00:24:06]Nobody knows why.

[00:24:29]One was addressed to the woman who stayed though everyone knew she sailed away.

[00:24:44]One came stamped from a town called June somewhere between the stars and the moon and one simply read. I still remember though nobody knew what it meant.

[00:25:04]The sea keeps its secrets.

[00:25:08]The sea keeps them well.

[00:25:13]But sometimes it lets one slip.

[00:25:22]Letters from the bottom of the sea, washed ashore with love.

[00:25:30]Letters from the bottom of the sea, signed with forgotten names.

[00:25:38]Letters from the bottom of the sea, carried by the tide.

[00:25:47]Nobody knows who wrote them and nobody knows why.

[00:25:57]Oh, Mrs. Harper keeps a box beneath her bed filled with sea letters she never read. She says some mysteries are better left alone and some belong to the ocean.

[00:26:51]Letters from the bottom of the sea washed ashore again.

[00:26:59]Letters from the bottom of the sea signed with love from those beneath.

[00:27:07]Letters from the bottom of the sea carried by the tide.

[00:27:16]Nobody knows who wrote them and nobody knows why.

[00:27:53]Hey.

[00:28:01]Down by the harbor in a weather beaten shed.

[00:28:11]The tide map maker works long after everyone's in bed.

[00:28:23]With salt stained charts and fading ink, he draws the coast the way he thinks it might have looked 100 years ago.

[00:28:46]But the channels move. The sand banks shift. The sea keeps changing its mind.

[00:28:59]And every morning the tide rewrites the shoreline. Every morning the seer draws the base. Till he falls with his pencil and his lantern, mapping all the places that won't stay.

[00:29:43]He maps the island that appears at halfass 3 on certain autumn evenings.

[00:29:58]Out beyond the reef, he maps the road that only shows when winter moonlight meets the shallows and the beach where lost umbrellas go.

[00:30:27]Some say he's chasing things that never were, but he smiles and keeps trying.

[00:30:40]And every morning the tide rewrites the shoreline. Every morning the sea redraws the bay. Still he follows with his pencil and his lantern, mapping all the places that won't stay.

[00:31:09]He knows he'll never finish. He knows he'll never win. The coastline isn't hiding. It's simply wondering.

[00:31:20]And maybe that's the reason he never walks away. Because some mysteries are worth the chase.

[00:31:56]And every morning the tide rewrites the shoreline. Every morning the sea redraws the base. Still he follows with his pencil and his lantern, mapping all the places that won't stay.

[00:32:33]Heat. Heat.

[00:33:22]Pass the headland.

[00:33:25]Past the dunes where the seagrass kneels to the afternoon there's a stretch of sand. The maps don't show. They call it the beach where lost umbrellas go.

[00:33:48]Red umbrellas, yellow umbrellas, striped umbrellas in the rain.

[00:33:57]Polka dot umbrellas, sailor blue umbrellas. Nobody knows from where they came.

[00:34:08]After every storm, a few more arrive.

[00:34:17]Like the sea's been collecting them all this time.

[00:34:27]The beach where lost umbrellas go.

[00:34:33]Brought in by the tide.

[00:34:37]The beach where lost umbrellas go. And side by side by side.

[00:34:47]Through the wind, through the years, through the salt and summer glow, they gather on the beach where lost umbrellas go.

[00:35:18]Some folks say they belong to travelers who almost came this way.

[00:35:28]Others swear their souvenirs from forgotten holidays.

[00:35:39]Old Mrs. Harper laughs and says the sea just likes bright colors.

[00:35:48]Then changes the subject before anyone can ask another question.

[00:35:59]And every autumn when the storms roll through, the beach grows larger by one or two.

[00:36:19]The beach where lost umbrellas go, waiting by the tide.

[00:36:29]The beach where lost umbrellas go.

[00:36:35]Side by side by side.

[00:36:39]Through the wind, through the years, through the salt and summer glow, they gather on the beach where lost umbrellas go.

[00:36:55]Sometimes at sunset when the whole shore turns gold.

[00:37:04]The umbrella seem to lean together like old friends sharing stories no one else can hear.

[00:37:38]The beach where lost umbrellas go.

[00:37:43]Brought in by the tide.

[00:37:48]The beach where lost umbrellas go. And side by side by side.

[00:37:58]Through the wind, through the years, through the salt and summer glow, they gather on the beach where lost umbrellas go.

[00:38:26]The beach where lost umbrellas go.

[00:39:07]The evening comes.

[00:39:11]The tide rolls in.

[00:39:15]The harbor lights begin to dim.

[00:39:23]The seagrass bins.

[00:39:27]The ghost drift home and shadows gather along the stones.

[00:39:39]Some things stay for a little while.

[00:39:47]Some things don't.

[00:39:53]Blown away with the breeze.

[00:40:00]Blown away with the breeze.

[00:40:07]Like a song across the water or a name among the trees.

[00:40:16]Gone away with the breeze.

[00:40:38]A lantern shines beyond the dunes.

[00:40:45]A distant melody.

[00:40:48]An old familiar tune.

[00:40:53]A page of maps lifts from the sand and dances briefly out of hand.

[00:41:09]Some things fade before you know.

[00:41:17]Some things go blown away with the breeze.

[00:41:31]Blown away with the breeze.

[00:41:37]Like a letter left unopened or a summer memory blown away with the breeze.

[00:42:09]Maybe that's the secret the old coastline knew.

[00:42:17]Nothing here was ever lost. It was only passing through.

[00:42:41]Clone away with the breeze.

[00:42:49]Clown away with the breeze.

[00:42:56]Like moonlight on the water, like footprints by the sea.

[00:43:05]Blown away with the breeze.

[00:43:13]Blown away with the breeze. But for a little while, you were here with me. And then you were blown away with the breeze.

[00:43:36]Blown away with the breeze.

[00:43:44]Blown away with the breeze.

[00:43:52]Don't away with the breeze.

[00:44:08]Blown away with the breeze.