O, Astoria! - Musée Mécanique

For the rest of our lives we’ll be swaying

As laces and dirtied old soles.

From the branches young age’s engagements

Have flocked with the sparrows and gulls

To O, Astoria.

‘Neath the rails of old engines' abandon

‘Tween cracks in the gravel and moss

Where the flickers of memories we flattened

In the copper of pennies are lost

In the shade of our glory

At the hill where the old chapel stands

There is held our beliefs where we left them

In the skin of the tall pines, the rocks, and the sands

Of O, Astoria!

There we on the water took count

Of the moons that have orbited us and gave weight

To our arms that could open but slight

Though our words would change even gravity’s might.

With the dust and the ash of our fathers passed

Tucked neatly in our blood

O, what length we’ve waited for this place to seek us out!

O, Astoria.

In the shade of our glory

At the end of Columbia’s breath

Did we know our beliefs when we forged them

In the skin of the tall pines the rocks and the sands?

Of O, Astoria!