Cold wind hits the cobblestone
Walking these old streets alone
Flour on my apron white
Cutting through the heavy night
Golden crust and autumn air
Glowing warmth beyond compare
Lighting up the Boston red
Waking up the city head
Copper pots and steaming heat
Scent of yeast upon the street
Clock is ticking on the wall
Wait for morning's sudden call
Golden crust and autumn air
Glowing warmth beyond compare
Lighting up the Boston red
Waking up the city head
Iron gates and frozen dew
Everything is sharp and new
Sifting grains with steady hand
Best aroma in the land
Golden crust and autumn air
Glowing warmth beyond compare
Lighting up the Boston red
Waking up the city head
Heavy bags and tired eyes
Waiting for the orange skies
Baking bread while others sleep
Promises I have to keep
Golden crust and autumn air
Glowing warmth beyond compare
Lighting up the Boston red
Waking up the city head
Brick and flour, midnight hour
Boston red, city head.