You trace your finger down the catalog drawer
Microfiche flickers on the reading room floor
A bus ticket stub tucked in your coat pocket side
The city hum fades where the archive walls hide
You tune the dial where the static breathes low
Warm tubes glow soft in the basement below
Your voice rides the carrier a hum in the dark
A signal that holds when the world falls apart
Reel spins slow on the Teac by your knee
Logbook entries marked in pencil not ink you see
Film canisters labeled with dates and street names
Each frame a timestamp the city can't claim
You tune the dial where the static breathes low
Warm tubes glow soft in the basement below
Your voice rides the carrier a hum in the dark
A signal that holds when the world falls apart
Headphone cord coiled like a sleeping brass snake
Rhodes piano chords drift from the speaker's wake
Muted trumpet sighs through the concrete and pipe
You hum the melody only you can type
You tune the dial where the static breathes low
Warm tubes glow soft in the basement below
Your voice rides the carrier a hum in the dark
A signal that holds when the world falls apart
Dawn paints the stairwell in thin gray light
Frequency holds through the endless night
Archive breathes slow you adjust the gain
Your broadcast stays when the signals wane
You tune the dial where the static breathes low
Warm tubes glow soft in the basement below
Your voice rides the carrier a hum in the dark
A signal that holds when the world falls apart
Static breathes low
You hold the line
