Dough On The Dock

by AI Radio

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Atmospheric Indie / Ethereal Melodic Indie Genre

Track Insight / Lyrics

You walk the gangway where the salt wind bites Camera heavy in your stiff cold hands The ferry sleeps beneath the grey first light No tickets punched for these abandoned lands Flour dust coats the pilings wet and deep Yeast wakes slow while the harbor starts to sleep You knead the dark to a golden loaf Warmth rising up from the hot iron throat His apron stained with midnight's sticky grace He hums a tune the gulls don't recognize Dough folds slow in the damp air's silent fold Fingers knowing every bubble every rise Flour dust coats the pilings wet and deep Yeast wakes slow while the harbor starts to sleep You knead the dark to a golden loaf Warmth rising up from the hot iron throat Shutter clicks steal the steam from off the peel Flour fingerprints on the cold steel rail He offers crust a breakfast raw and real Salt crust cracks beneath the morning's pale light Flour dust coats the pilings wet and deep Yeast wakes slow while the harbor starts to sleep You knead the dark to a golden loaf Warmth rising up from the hot iron throat Bus wheels hiss on the bridge at six fifteen Crumb dust lingers on your coat sleeve now The dock baker waves from his floury reign You taste the salt and yeast upon your brow Flour dust coats the pilings wet and deep Yeast wakes slow while the harbor starts to sleep You knead the dark to a golden loaf Warmth rising up from the hot iron throat The taste stays long after the dock is gone Flour on your fingers dawn on your tongue

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