You hold a rod made of old pine
Counting the hours in a line
Your boots are worn on the wet stone
Standing out here all alone
Wait for the coffee to brew
Wait for the morning light dew
Cast out a line in the square
Scent of the roast in the air
The fountain drips with a slow beat
Cold air is clinging to the street
You watch the pigeons find a place
While sleep is written on your face
No silver fish in this dry land
Just a heavy rod in your hand
You keep your gaze on the far door
Waiting for what you adore
Wait for the coffee to brew
Wait for the morning light dew
Cast out a line in the square
Scent of the roast in the air
The city wakes with a low hum
You know the caffeine will soon come
The iron shutters start to rise
A golden glow hits your tired eyes
A waiter nods with a quick grin
Telling you now it is time to begin
You fold the graphite and walk slow
Ready for where the day will go
Wait for the coffee to brew
Wait for the morning light dew
Cast out a line in the square
Scent of the roast in the air
First cup is black and it is hot
The only peace that you have got
Just you and the grey.
Welcome the day.
