Salt air bites the rusted rail.
Silver clouds begin to pale.
Brass casing worn down to the bone.
Walking these harbor cliffs alone.
Spin the dial and find the way.
Hold the light of dying day.
Golden gears that turn and glow.
Watching all the currents flow.
Coffee stains on a greasy tray.
Night shift work to start the day.
Counting seconds in the heat.
Walking rhythms on the beat.
Wind is whipping through the hair.
Scent of jasmine in the air.
Looking for a missing link.
Watching as the city sinks.
Spin the dial and find the way.
Hold the light of dying day.
Golden gears that turn and glow.
Watching all the currents flow.
Steel and glass against the blue.
Searching for a steady clue.
One last turn before the dark.
Waiting for a single spark.
Wiping counters clean and white.
Working through the lonely night.
Hands are calloused, skin is brown.
Looking at the harbor town.
Spin the dial and find the way.
Hold the light of dying day.
Golden gears that turn and glow.
Watching all the currents flow.
Golden hour gears.
Just a few more years.
Tick, tack, tick, tack.
