Cobbler sits on splintered stool
Brush in hand he works the rule
Leather drinks the wax he lays
Light returns in amber haze
He buffs the shine on empty decks
Where gulls won't cry and nets won't drag
Each stroke a prayer the dawn reflects
Gold on brown on weathered rag
Ferry sleeps on slackened chain
Water smells of salt and rain
His thumb finds cracks the years have carved
Polish fills what time has starred
He buffs the shine on empty decks
Where gulls won't cry and nets won't drag
Each stroke a prayer the dawn reflects
Gold on brown on weathered rag
Wurlitzer bleeds from diner door
Eggs flip slow on blackened floor
He nods at me through steam and glass
Two survivors watching dawn pass
He buffs the shine on empty decks
Where gulls won't cry and nets won't drag
Each stroke a prayer the dawn reflects
Gold on brown on weathered rag
Morning bell clangs slow and heavy
Shift change walks in steady ready
But he stays till leather sings
Till the light has worn its wings
Apron stained with midnight grease
I serve the hash I pour the peace
He caps his tin he tips his hat
Dock light catches where he sat
He buffs the shine on empty decks
Where gulls won't cry and nets won't drag
Each stroke a prayer the dawn reflects
Gold on brown on weathered rag
Brush rests still on cracked leather
Dawn holds the shine a little longer
