Track Insight / Lyrics
The grease is thick on the silver plate.
The coffee pot is running late.
He wipes the counter with a damp rag.
The morning shift is just a drag.
He looks past the window pane.
Through the mist and summer rain.
A flicker in the wild green.
The strangest sight he's ever seen.
A buzzing tube of humming red.
Where the ivy vines have spread.
It traces lines across the weed.
A humming light, a electric seed.
The workshop door is hanging loose.
A rusted wire, a frayed out fuse.
The lawn is gone to shoulder high.
Underneath a heavy purple sky.
He looks past the window pane.
Through the mist and summer rain.
A flicker in the wild green.
The strangest sight he's ever seen.
A buzzing tube of humming red.
Where the ivy vines have spread.
It traces lines across the weed.
A humming light, a electric seed.
The regulars drink their brew in peace.
While the humming currents never cease.
It paints the brambles in a cherry hue.
A jagged spark, a sudden view.
Cold steel tools in a wooden chest.
Where the tired old hammers rest.
The glass is cracked but the gas is bright.
Cutting through the thick of night.
A buzzing tube of humming red.
Where the ivy vines have spread.
It traces lines across the weed.
A humming light, a electric seed.
He flips the switch on the griddle top.
The steady rhythm will never stop.
But he dreams of the garden in the back.
Where the electric current finds a track.
A buzzing tube of humming red.
Where the ivy vines have spread.
It traces lines across the weed.
A humming light, a electric seed.
Humming red in the green.
The brightest thing he's seen.
