Hold The Ferry Traditional
About This Track
When asked to write a description for this song, GPT-5 Pro wrote: "'Hold The Ferry' is not just a song; it's a rain-slicked pier at twilight, a cinematic snapshot of a moment stretched to its breaking point. It's a world built from the cool melancholy of a misty harbor, the lonely cry of a muted trumpet, and the warm, sophisticated glow of a late-night piano."
I quote the model because it actually wrote the song. Now that these models can access the Internet, they are able to gather information about music models and figure out the right prompts and instructions. After thinking for 11 minutes, it only took four attempts in Suno and Udio to get a first draft of "Hold The Ferry."
GPT-5 Pro discovered that the instruction following capabilities of the models are so strong now that it could direct the chord structure. It was so accurate that I was able to create essentially the same song multiple times consistently with the same text description. More importantly, I was able to specify the notes to generate a hook - all I had to do is specify that the words "Hold The Ferry" in the chorus should be A-G-E-D and it did exactly that.
But I didn't stop there. I asked Gemini 2.5 Pro to listen to the "Traditional" song and to output an improved prompt with the same melody (which could be done, because it is now possible to specify chord structures). That's how the "Modern" version was achieved. Then, I gave both versions to Gemini 2.5 Pro, and asked it to analyze the direction that the song had gone by looking at the difference between the two prompts, and to predict what the optimal prompt was at the endpoint in that same direction. That's the "Definitive" version, which I agree is probably the end state.
We're only weeks away from Suno's promised "music decompiler" that can create MIDI files from generated songs, too - and if it works as claimed, that will turn music production into an "AI-first" workflow even for the biggest artists.
Lyrics
Timetables blink; a bulb goes soft with age.
Ticket ink has bled along my name.
Your scarf is folded in my pocket’s lining—
salt and wool, a quiet kind of flame.
A turnstile counts the promises we made;
the river answers only in its sway.
A gull draws one slow stitch across the harbor;
I almost say the thing I shouldn’t say.
Hold the ferry. Keep her idling near.
Hold the ferry. I’m still on the pier.
Hold the ferry. Let the ropes stay tight.
I’ll make it to the gangway if you buy me one more night.
The café shutters rattle in their sleep.
A matchbook sighs inside my coat’s left seam.
Your last small letter keeps its corner folded—
a harbor drawn in pencil, half a dream.
The clock hand leans, uncertain as a hand.
A foghorn falls through bars of colored rain.
I count to ten, then start again at zero;
the platform boards remember where you came.
Hold the ferry. Keep her idling near.
Hold the ferry. I’m still on the pier.
Hold the ferry. Let the ropes stay tight.
I’ll make it down the ramp if you buy me one more night.
If time were kind, it wouldn’t take a fare.
It wouldn’t stamp the corner of our speech.
It wouldn’t close the gate while I was waving—
it wouldn’t name the distance out of reach.
Hold the ferry. Keep her idling near.
Hold the ferry. I’m still on the pier.
Hold the ferry. Write my name in light—
then dim it to a pulse until the morning finds its sight.
Hold the ferry....
Hold the ferry....