Checker cab rolls down Wabash night
Meter ticks soft in sodium light
Brass key rests on the passenger seat
No door to fit no lock to meet
Jazz club basement breathes blue smoke
Saxophone cries through oak and coke
Key catches glow from stage left wing
Waits for a song that might not sing
Brass key Chicago cold and bright
No door to open no lock to fight
Rides the fare through wind and rain
Returns to the seat again again
Driver knows the proverb old
Keys are stories never told
He polished brass with calloused thumb
While lake wind hummed a low hum drum
Brass key Chicago cold and bright
No door to open no lock to fight
Rides the fare through wind and rain
Returns to the seat again again
Midnight fare pays double rate
Key stays silent by the gate
No destination no address found
Just the hum of tires on frozen ground
Dawn breaks gray on Michigan
Key still waits where it began
Driver sighs and shifts to park
Another shift ends in the dark
Next night brings a new unknown
Key still rides the same vinyl throne
Some doors exist in rhythm only
Some locks are melody and lonely
Brass key Chicago cold and bright
No door to open no lock to fight
Rides the fare through wind and rain
Returns to the seat again again
Brass key waits where the music played
Another fare another shade
