Grill smoke curls through fluorescent hum
Bacon grease sings on seasoned iron
Regulars sip their bitter sums
Night shift waits for morning's lion
Fog sits heavy on the switching yard
Trench coat buttons against the cold
Two souls waiting for their calling card
Stories written in the tracks we hold
Case file rests in damp wool pocket
Fingerprints on chipped white cup
Witness gone like a dropped locket
Steam climbs slow from the coffee up
Fog sits heavy on the switching yard
Trench coat buttons against the cold
Two souls waiting for their calling card
Stories written in the tracks we hold
Eggs flip slow on the flat top steel
Hash browns crisp in rendered fat
Radio plays a broken reel
Static hums where the signal sat
Fog sits heavy on the switching yard
Trench coat buttons against the cold
Two souls waiting for their calling card
Stories written in the tracks we hold
Rail cars cough in the yellow haze
Coupling pins lock tight and slow
Shift ends soon in the purple maze
Badges weigh heavy like the crow
Fog sits heavy on the switching yard
Trench coat buttons against the cold
Two souls waiting for their calling card
Stories written in the tracks we hold
Stories written in the tracks we hold
Coffee cold, the case goes on
Morning breaks, the night is gone