October wind cuts through my coat
The midnight fog is like a moat
I park the cab and kill the heat
I smell the salt on every street
Hold that beam on the red brick stone
Walking these old roads all alone
Gold light cutting through the cold gray
Chasing the ghosts of yesterday
The watchman swings a heavy glare
A lonely circle in the air
He hunts for truth in every crack
The city hums a low-end track
I know the fare and know the street
Where history and the asphalt meet
The brick is worn and smooth and deep
While all the tired bankers sleep
Hold that beam on the red brick stone
Walking these old roads all alone
Gold light cutting through the cold gray
Chasing the ghosts of yesterday
The engine ticks a steady beat
I feel the pulse beneath my feet
The heavy fuzz begins to roar
I cannot take this midnight anymore
He stops his light on one old square
A frozen moment hanging there
The autumn leaves are turning black
There is no way of turning back
Hold that beam on the red brick stone
Walking these old roads all alone
Gold light cutting through the cold gray
Chasing the ghosts of yesterday
Just a beam on the brick.
Yeah, just a beam.
Keep it steady now.
