I sit here on the Formica plate
While the morning coffee meets its fate
The kettle screams a high and lonely note
Like a rusty engine on a river boat
I am the silver needle in the glass
Watching all the midnight hours pass
Pointing to a road I cannot tread
While the city sleeps inside its bed
I saw the rain on 42nd street
The way the asphalt burns beneath the heat
The driver's hand is shaking on the wheel
The kind of cold that only metal feel
A penny for the secrets in the tray
The kind of debts that no one wants to pay
The steam is rising thick and ghostly white
Holding back the coming of the light
I am the silver needle in the glass
Watching all the midnight hours pass
Pointing to a road I cannot tread
While the city sleeps inside its bed
The magnetic pull is a heavy chain
Like a long night driving through the rain
I hold the line and I keep the true
Searching for a way to get to you
The kitchen clock is ticking slow and deep
While the tired world falls away to sleep
I keep the watch for every fare and friend
Until the winding road comes to an end
I am the silver needle in the glass
Watching all the midnight hours pass
Pointing to a road I cannot tread
While the city sleeps inside its bed
Keep it true, keep it straight
I'll be here, I can wait
North, north, always north.
