You walk down to the lowest floor
Past the lock and the heavy door
Beneath the books and the paper stack
Where the old city current tracks
You find the hum of a hidden wire
A frozen spark of a dead man's fire
Under the concrete and the gray
Hiding the glare of the working day
Electric red in a quiet room
A sudden light in the urban gloom
You touch the glass and you feel the heat
The lonely pulse of a buried street
The tubes are humming a steady tone
A signal sent to a dead dial phone
You stand alone in the damp and cold
Watching the flicker of something old
Electric red in a quiet room
A sudden light in the urban gloom
You touch the glass and you feel the heat
The lonely pulse of a buried street
It does not blink and it does not fade
A steady beam in a heavy shade
The iron beams hold the ceiling tight
Giving you back a piece of the light
The archive air is a heavy weight
A silent guard at a rusted gate
But you keep watch like a beacon flame
Calling a town by a forgotten name
The buzz is loud in your shaking hand
A tiny piece of a brighter land
You lock the door as you climb the stair
Leaving the glow in the basement air
Electric red in a quiet room
A sudden light in the urban gloom
You touch the glass and you feel the heat
The lonely pulse of a buried street
The pulse of the street The electric heat
Glass and steel!
