Track Insight / Lyrics
You find the dock where the salt air bites
Under the roof of the harbor lights
A wooden box with a rusted key
Sings a song from a dead blue sea
You wind the crank till the spring is tight
Cutting a hole through the early light
The brass horn glows like a dying star
You hear the tune from a place too far
Spin the black disc, let the needle slide
Ride the salt wave, ride the turning tide
Spin the black disc, let the music roar
Wash the grey sand on a lonely shore
The ferry gone and the pier is bare
Cold morning mist in your tangled hair
The scratchy sound is a jagged line
Tasting the brine like a bitter wine
Spin the black disc, let the needle slide
Ride the salt wave, ride the turning tide
Spin the black disc, let the music roar
Wash the grey sand on a lonely shore
Cracked oil paint on a peeling wall
Wait for the winter, wait for the fall
The gears are grinding a heavy beat
Feel the raw heat in your shaking feet
You stand alone where the pylons lean
Watching the water, a dirty green
The record skips on a broken phrase
Lost in the heat of the summer haze
The sun breaks red on the eastern rim
The ghost of the melody growing dim
You shut the lid on the clicking sound
Plant your boots on the frozen ground
Spin the black disc, let the needle slide
Ride the salt wave, ride the turning tide
Spin the black disc, let the music roar
Wash the grey sand on a lonely shore
Let it roar!
Just let it roar!
Brass needle dawn.
