Under red brick in the cold
Stories that the city told
Hiding from the autumn wind
Where the dirty alleys bend
Call me on the copper wire
Burning like a low-grade fire
I can see the city glow
Tell me where the taxis go
October leaves turn to brown
Sinking in this heavy town
Steel and soot and salty air
Fares are waiting over there
Call me on the copper wire
Burning like a low-grade fire
I can see the city glow
Tell me where the taxis go
Old men chew on cheap cigars
Watching all the passing cars
Cold rain hits the granite stone
I am sitting here alone
The signal cuts through the gray
Working till the end of day
A static hum in my chest
A working man needs his rest
Turn the dial and clear the line
Everything is doing fine
Keep the rhythm steady beat
Hidden underneath the street
Call me on the copper wire
Burning like a low-grade fire
I can see the city glow
Tell me where the taxis go
Sleeve is worn and coffee's black
One way trip and no way back
Boston keeps the secrets tight
Deep inside the winter light
Call me on the copper wire
Burning like a low-grade fire
I can see the city glow
Tell me where the taxis go
Copy that, ten-four. Shut it down.
End of the line.
