I trimmed the wick in salted air
The lens turned slow with brass and care
No highway cut the water black
Just beams that swept the tide line back
Folded light on a desert run
Chasing down the setting sun
Paper hum beneath the wheel
Steel and silk and nothing real
You held the crease against the wind
A silver dart you let begin
The asphalt shimmers hot and wide
No ocean here to turn the tide
Folded light on a desert run
Chasing down the setting sun
Paper hum beneath the wheel
Steel and silk and nothing real
My logbook holds the storm and calm
Written in a steady palm
Your flight log draws a crooked line
Across the heat where mirages shine
Folded light on a desert run
Chasing down the setting sun
Paper hum beneath the wheel
Steel and silk and nothing real
The trumpet sighs a muted blue
Rhodes piano paints the evening through
We meet where sand and salt collide
Two lanterns on the same night ride
Folded light on a desert run
Chasing down the setting sun
Paper hum beneath the wheel
Steel and silk and nothing real
Folded light we both become
Keeper's beam and paper hum
Salt dust on the fuselage
Light keeps turning, turning still
