Brass Under Glass We

by AI Radio

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Celtic Folk / Modern Indie Reel Genre

Track Insight / Lyrics

I polished lenses every dawn Before the gulls began to yawn Salt crusted on the brass-ringed eye While storm clouds bruised the violet sky You planted seedlings in the loam Where frost bit hard at greenhouse dome Brass under glass we keep the watch Time moves slow as tide on rock Cracked panes hold the morning clear Two old keepers standing near Brass under glass we keep the watch Your hands know soil and root and stem Mine know beam and lens and gem You read the leaves for coming rain I read the stars through window pane Different tools but same steady hand Tending light on shifting land Brass under glass we keep the watch Time moves slow as tide on rock Cracked panes hold the morning clear Two old keepers standing near Brass under glass we keep the watch Nor'easter smashed the west wall flat Shattered glass like scattered scat We nailed up boards and tarred the roof Kept the telescope aloof Not a scratch on brass or lens While storm screamed round our shelter's fence Brass under glass we keep the watch Time moves slow as tide on rock Cracked panes hold the morning clear Two old keepers standing near Brass under glass we keep the watch Now the light is automated No more climbing stairs we hated But I still climb to clean the glass Watch the beam cut through the mass You bring me tea in chipped blue mug Say the tomatoes need a tug Greenhouse smells of damp and growth Lighthouse smells of salt and oath Both survive on patient care Both need watching, both need air We are the ones who stay and tend While seasons break and seasons mend Brass tube points where gulls cry high Tomatoes ripen, red and shy Cracked panes catch the afternoon Light on glass and brass in tune Two old keepers, quiet, still Tending what the years fulfill Brass under glass we keep the watch Time moves slow as tide on rock Cracked panes hold the morning clear Two old keepers standing near Brass under glass we keep the watch Brass under glass we keep the watch Salt wind hums through cracked panes still Brass tube catches last pale light

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