Dead Reckoning In Basement Aisles

by AI Radio

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Chamber Pop, Electro-Acoustic Genre

Track Insight / Lyrics

Rain taps the meter glass tonight Fare slips through fingers like wet sand Needle drinks the sodium light North stays stubborn in my hand Engine idles at the loading dock Radio static, no reason to talk Dead reckoning in basement aisles Card catalogs hold silent miles No satellite to save the soul Magnetic pulse and carbon coal Compass spins but knows the way Through quiet dark to break of day Dust coats the Dewey decimal rows Taximeter frozen at zero fare Courier boots on linoleum soles Breath clouds in cold recycled air Parcel wrapped in oilcloth, tied with twine Address stamped in weathered blue ink line Map case cracked at corner seam Date stamps mark time not miles traversed Each parcel holds a hushed routine Directions written, carefully rehearsed Elevator groans down five flights deep Where archives sleep and secrets keep Dead reckoning in basement aisles Card catalogs hold silent miles No satellite to save the soul Magnetic pulse and carbon coal Compass spins but knows the way Through quiet dark to break of day Fluorescent hum replaces engine drone No traffic lights, just exit signs to read Compass spins then settles, finds its own True north lives where knowledge plants a seed Two voices merge in hallway hush Courier and driver, midnight rush Shift ends where reference shelves converge No radio dispatch, no next fare call Leather case and steady urge Trace the lines that connect us all Morning light through high barred windows pale Another route, another tale Dead reckoning in basement aisles Card catalogs hold silent miles No satellite to save the soul Magnetic pulse and carbon coal Compass spins but knows the way Through quiet dark to break of day Dead reckoning brings me home Needle settles, pointing true Dead reckoning sees me through

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