I Have Seen the Copper Sun (Edit)

Verse 1
The atlas on the cedar chest has lost its navy spine
A crease for every county line I crossed in seventy-nine
I keep my reading glasses perched upon a stack of mail
And trace the faded coastal routes where timber schooners sail
My knees predict the barometric pressure in the air
While dust motes drift like afternoon across the wicker chair
​[Pre-Chorus]
It wasn't always quiet in the hallway after dark
The floorboards used to echo with a restless kind of spark
​[Chorus]
And I have seen the copper sun dissolve into the bay
I've traded silver dollars for a place to sleep till day
Now the distance isn't measured by the highway or the mile
It's the space between a memory and a crooked, knowing smile
Yeah, the map is folded neatly on the shelf beside the door
I don't need to chase the weather anymore
​[Verse 2]
A postcard from a harbor town is pinned above the sink
The cursive on the back has bled to pale, illegible ink
I remember cold Pacific fog against a rusted pier
And laughing with a stranger over lukewarm, bitter beer
My hands are mapped with veins now like the delta of a stream
Carrying the sediment of every waking dream
​[Pre-Chorus]
The calendar is thinner than it was a decade back
And the clock above the mantle keeps a steady, heavy track
​[Chorus]
And I have seen the copper sun dissolve into the bay
I've traded silver dollars for a place to sleep till day
Now the distance isn't measured by the highway or the mile
It's the space between a memory and a crooked, knowing smile
Yeah, the map is folded neatly on the shelf beside the door
I don't need to chase the weather anymore
​[Bridge]
Let the younger engines hum along the interstate tonight
I've had my share of neon signs and unfamiliar light
The porch light casts a steady circle on the evening grass
Watching all the rushing shadows softly pass
​[Guitar and Pedal Steel Instrumental Break - 16 bars]
​[Chorus]
'Cause I have seen the copper sun dissolve into the bay
I've traded silver dollars for a place to sleep till day
Now the distance isn't measured by the highway or the mile
It's the space between a memory and a crooked, knowing smile
Yeah, the map is folded neatly on the shelf beside the door
I don't need to chase the weather anymore
​[Outro]
The atlas on the cedar chest
Has earned its quiet rest
Just the ticking of the mantle clock
And the evening cooling off