Cracked glass panes hold the heat
Above the concrete street
Old green leaves touch the rust
Sifting through silver dust
Below the root and the loam
A map is calling me home
Electric humming in lines
Deep in the subway designs
Nineteen eighty two ink
Watching the old world sink
Copper wires start to glow
Where the cold currents flow
Below the root and the loam
A map is calling me home
Electric humming in lines
Deep in the subway designs
I kept the lamp in the tower
Counting every dark hour
Now I watch the ferns grow
While the steel rivers flow
Below the root and the loam
A map is calling me home
Electric humming in lines
Deep in the subway designs
The salt air is far away
In this house of pale grey
Bending beams of old pine
Crossing a jagged line
Shattered glass on the floor
I don't watch the sea anymore
Wait for the thunder to break
Wait for the heavy ground shake
Iron hums in the clay
Turning the midnight to day
Green vines wrap round the rail
Tracing a ghost of a trail
Below the root and the loam
A map is calling me home
Electric humming in lines
Deep in the subway designs
Humming low, humming deep.
Iron veins, while I sleep. Glass and iron.
Glass and iron.
