Hey little brother, we got this.
Do you know who you are? Son of a son of a sailor…
and I doubt Jimmy Buffett
minds me borrowing that line
because we’re all just borrowing each other’s stuff anyway.
But back to what i was saying…
We’ve heard the same stories about him
He was crazy as fuck
Funny as hell
A football player without a helmet
Sailing down the coast
Racing down the river
Full on, no brakes, no fear, all in, pure Woodworth.
Like you in that jet,
you know what you’re doing,
You always did. Or at least it seemed so.
So did I, only I was asleep at the wheel
while you had your nose to the grindstone.
Somehow I felt small and believed it,
It was never a competition anyway.
Remember what it’s like to be on a sailboat?
Sails full, the rush, America’s Cup
Straight on home, not caring if we ever
Get anywhere because this is the one
Place I remember that I felt
I was already home
I know he did too, our Grandfather Woodworth,
But he started to forget
Who he was in light of those flashy
sideshows money can buy,
in the world of fame and fortune.
You were wise to learn these lessons
I guess I heard them too.
And here we are now
You running the base
me running marathons.
I hope you understand that
this whole time we were trying
to get out on that boat at sea,
but as it turns out, we always
have been on the sailboat out at sea,
in our kitchens with our families.
In love, being love.
So pick up your guitar, little brother and play us on out
in this round,
with dad knowing the meaning
And mom knowing the words and
You and I sailing right on through.
I love you,
Your big sister