Crashing On The Shore Like Magic

I'm coming home
I'm moving down
The map like magic.
I'm coming home
I'm making like
A lack of logic.
And when you hear
The key,
in the lock,
Prepare yourself
To be the one
Who stops the clock.
I'm coming home
I'm moving through
The worn-out atlas.
I'm coming home
Like someone stole
Costello's cutlass.
And when you see
The ship,
in the dock
You know you'll be
The anchor
That I drop.
I'm coming home
I'm crashing on
The shore like magic.