I drove through the fog on the bend.
A road with no start and no end.
I saw an old house by the gate.
A place where the lonely souls wait.
The air is heavy and thick.
The clock gives a slow steady tick.
Brass telescope catching the glow.
Where the wild green ivy will grow.
Cracked glass panes splitting the white.
Turning the dark into light.
You held the lens close to your eye.
Watching the grey winter sky.
You looked for a sign in the haze.
Lost in a shimmering maze.
The air is heavy and thick.
The clock gives a slow steady tick.
Brass telescope catching the glow.
Where the wild green ivy will grow.
Cracked Glass panes splitting the white.
Turning the dark into light.
The meter is running on low.
I told you it's time now to go.
But you saw a spark in the pane.
A gold sort of warmth in the rain.
Jagged lines break the view.
Old gold turning to blue.
One sharp crack in the seal.
Making the phantom feel real.
Brass telescope catching the glow.
Where the wild green ivy will grow.
Cracked glass panes splitting the white.
Turning the dark into light.
I've seen every street in this town.
Where the heavy curtains fall down.
But here in the greenhouse we stand.
Holding the world in our hand.
Brass telescope catching the glow.
Where the wild green ivy will grow.
Cracked glass panes splitting the white.
Turning the dark into light.
Just a fare for the ride.
Keep the brass light inside.
Keep the light inside.
