Heather Miller - Shoreline of Alaska

He's still snoring as I shuffle to the kitchen
Tie my robe, and put the kettle on the stove
I light a cigarette, this is the only chance I'll get
look out the window as I wait to hear the boil

The only thing to see across the way is a green hedge
I knock the ashes off against the window ledge

If I had a dream I can't remember
If you ask me how I am I'll say I'm fine
I'll tell you about the tulips or the roses or the weather
and tonight I'll pour another glass of wine

He always promised we would travel
When all the kids had all grown up and gone
But he worked himself to death, and there's not much of him left
Still somehow through the years he's clinging on

I know it's my duty to stay here by his side
For better or worse is what I promised as his bride

And

If I had a dream I can't remember
If you ask me how I am I'll say I'm fine
I'll tell you about the tulips or the roses or the weather
and tonight I'll pour another glass of wine

The shoreline of Alaska is calling out my name
A lullaby is whispering from the rails beneath a train
The drumbeat of old Ireland is pounding through my veins
It's all a lie, it's all a lie when I say that

If I had a dream I can't remember
If you ask me how I am I'll say I'm fine
I'll tell you about the tulips or the roses or the weather
and tonight
oh tonight
yeah tonight
I'll pour another glass of wine