Track Insight / Lyrics
Rain slicks the cobblestones near Saint-Michel
Meter clicks slow while the engine runs cold
Watch rests on wrought iron, chain coiled in steel
Second hand sweeps where the chimney smoke rolls
Driver knows time by the wear on his wheel
Golden hands turn on a Paris terrace
Ticking through dusk where the slate roofs align
No fare to collect, no destination to chase
Just gears breathing deep in a moment divine
City holds breath while the watch marks the line
Crystal face catches the last amber glow
Zinc tables empty, wine glasses wiped clean
Taxi waits curb-side, red light on the row
Pocket watch ticks where the lovers have been
Night shift begins as the streetlamps lean low
Golden hands turn on a Paris terrace
Ticking through dusk where the slate roofs align
No fare to collect, no destination to chase
Just gears breathing deep in a moment divine
City holds breath while the watch marks the line
Brass casing warmed by a thumb worn from years
Of counting out francs, of counting out miles
Rain beats the roof, but the sound disappears
Into the rhythm that silently smiles
Time keeps its counsel through fog and through tears
Wipers sweep arcs on a windshield of glass
Engine coughs once, then settles to purr
Watch ticks the same as the first mile passed
Steady as heartbeats, steady and sure
Golden hands turn on a Paris terrace
Ticking through dusk where the slate roofs align
No fare to collect, no destination to chase
Just gears breathing deep in a moment divine
City holds breath while the watch marks the line
Dawn bleeds through chimneys, pink on the slate
Meter resets with a mechanical click
Watch slips in waistcoat, snapped shut by fate
Driver exhales, starts the morning shift quick
Time moves the city, but never moves late
Golden hands turn on a Paris terrace
Ticking through dusk where the slate roofs align
No fare to collect, no destination to chase
Just gears breathing deep in a moment divine
City holds breath while the watch marks the line
Tourists will photograph rooftops at noon
Locals drink coffee, ignoring the view
Watch keeps its secret, keeps its own tune
Ticking through lifetimes, faithful and true
Driver just drives beneath a silver moon
Golden hands turn on a Paris terrace
Ticking through dusk where the slate roofs align
No fare to collect, no destination to chase
Just gears breathing deep in a moment divine
City holds breath while the watch marks the line
Brass gleams where zinc tables meet sky
Time keeps moving, the driver drives by
