Booth Seven

by AI Radio

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Chamber Folk / Baroque Acoustic Genre

Track Insight / Lyrics

You sit bolted to the formica Ribbon dried to rusted red Keys remember every hand That punched the night into your bed Grill goes quiet, fryer cools Percolator sighs its steam Regulars all paid and left Only you remain to dream Booth seven holds its breath at three Typewriter keeps the watch for me Nylon strings and bowed bass sing Hope arrives on broken wing Booth seven holds its breath at three Carriage returns with metallic cough Paper feeds through rubber rollers Carbon copies stack like pancakes Stories typed by night shift scholars Neon flickers, dies, then hums Pie case empties, crust to crumb Waitress wipes the counter down You're the only witness now Booth seven holds its breath at three Typewriter keeps the watch for me Nylon strings and bowed bass sing Hope arrives on broken wing Booth seven holds its breath at three Trucker's logbook, poet's verse Love letters never sent to her Murder mystery page forty-two All live inside your metal hue Booth seven holds its breath at three Typewriter keeps the watch for me Nylon strings and bowed bass sing Hope arrives on broken wing Booth seven holds its breath at three Dawn creeps in through greasy glass Headlights sweep the parking lot Bell above the door rings once Fresh coffee in a chipped blue pot Booth seven holds its breath at three Typewriter keeps the watch for me Nylon strings and bowed bass sing Hope arrives on broken wing Booth seven holds its breath at three First customer takes usual seat Opens briefcase, finds your page Reads the lines the night composed Smiles at words the dark engraved Booth seven holds its breath at three Typewriter keeps the watch for me Nylon strings and bowed bass sing Hope arrives on broken wing Booth seven holds its breath at three Typewriter keeps the watch for me Keys rest silent, ribbon still Morning light fills up the grill

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