You count the coins where cold steel meets the stone
The river breathes a low and steady moan
Your booth lamps swing like buoys in fogged up glass
No ships out there just paper records pass
Down in the archive where the ledgers sleep
You guard the names the rushing waters keep
Each toll a soft breath each receipt a mark
You know the weight of every crossing lost
The damp basement air tastes salt and pencil lead
Old maps unfurl where harbor charts once spread
Your rough fingers trace the ridges of the ink
While upstairs silence wears a jagged brink
Down in the archive where the ledgers sleep
You guard the names the rushing waters keep
Each toll a soft breath each receipt a mark
You know the weight of every crossing lost
A ferry horn blows distant through the rusted grate
The night shift ends but you remain to wait
The clock ticks slow like buoys on slackened tide
No logbook left for what you hold inside
Down in the archive where the ledgers sleep
You guard the names the rushing waters keep
Each toll a soft breath each receipt a mark
You know the weight of every crossing lost
The dawn brings heavy trucks that rumble overhead
You stamp the last receipt with ink gone gray
Your brass lanterns dim but still the ledger stays
A keeper watches where the payers pay
Down in the archive where the ledgers sleep
You guard the names the rushing waters keep
Each toll a soft breath each receipt a mark
You know the weight of every crossing lost
The light stays lit past closing time
