Track Insight / Lyrics
Left on the tile by the dirty grate,
A heavy tube and a twist of fate.
The last train gone with a hollow sound,
The only treasure that can be found.
Oh, the brass lens catches the white light,
Turning the tunnel into a bright night.
Looking for stars in a concrete hall,
Waiting for someone to make the call.
It smells like ozone and old wet ink,
A lonely object on the subway brink.
The copper skin has a golden sheen,
The strangest thing that the track has seen.
Oh, the brass lens catches the white light,
Turning the tunnel into a bright night.
Looking for stars in a concrete hall,
Waiting for someone to make the call.
A tiny mirror in a metal sleeve,
A kind of magic you won't believe.
It points to nowhere in the midnight air,
While the wind whistles through a vacant stare.
Oh, the brass lens catches the white light,
Turning the tunnel into a bright night.
Looking for stars in a concrete hall,
Waiting for someone to make the call.
The janitor sweeps with a steady hand,
A piece of glass in a wasteland land.
He leaves it there by the yellow line,
A little piece of a lost design.
Oh, the brass lens catches the white light,
Turning the tunnel into a bright night.
Looking for stars in a concrete hall,
Waiting for someone to make the call.
Brass lens glow, let it go.
Just a little golden glow.
Let it go.
