You sit where the factory died
Moss claims the broken brick spine
Your brush catches morning tide
Polish feeds each cracked line
Buff the ruin catch the glow
Leather drinks what steel let go
Moss and iron salt and hide
You keep rubbing turning tide
The roof sighs with rust and rain
Vines thread through the window frame
Your apron holds the grease stain
Years of soles you carved then claimed
Buff the ruin catch the glow
Leather drinks what steel let go
Moss and iron salt and hide
You keep rubbing turning tide
The lathe sits cold in corner deep
Cobwebs bind the iron teeth
You wake the leather from its sleep
Each pass writes a tale beneath
Storm lanterns taught you this way
Trim the wick let fire stay
Now you tend a different ray
Buff the dark to brightest day
Buff the ruin catch the glow
Leather drinks what steel let go
Moss and iron salt and hide
You keep rubbing turning tide
Boot heels stack like sediment
Each pair maps a walking man
You rub the past to present tense
Light returns on grain and strand
Buff the ruin catch the glow
Leather drinks what steel let go
Moss and iron salt and hide
You keep rubbing turning tide
Buff the ruin catch the glow
Leather drinks what steel let go
Brush rests on the polished toe
Ruin lights your workshop low
