Grease is popping on the flat top grill.
Coffee in the pot is standing still.
Found a yellow card in a cardboard box.
Hidden under winter coats and socks.
Catch the morning sun on a faded page.
Breaking out of this cold iron cage.
Read the ink that ran through the summer heat.
Walking down a dead end city street.
You were standing by a shoreline view.
I remember when the ink was blue.
Salty air and a cheap hotel room.
Heavy scent of a cheap plastic bloom.
I flip the burger and I wipe the plate.
Wondering why we left it all to fate.
You are just a ghost in a paper frame.
I can barely even speak your name.
Catch the morning sun on a faded page.
Breaking out of this cold iron cage.
Read the ink that ran through the summer heat.
Walking down a dead end city street.
The attic window lets the light leak in.
Cold steel rhythm where the songs begin.
Saturate the gray with a golden glow.
Now I finally have a place to go.
Toss the apron on the kitchen floor.
Walk right out the heavy swinging door.
I will find the place where the postcard led.
Waking up the words that we never said.
Catch the morning sun on a faded page.
Breaking out of this cold iron cage.
Read the ink that ran through the summer heat.
Walking down a dead end city street.
Just a faded page.
Out the iron cage. Morning sun.
Now we run.
