I was born in a salty bay
Where the heavy currents play
Now I hang by a rusted rail
Waiting for a summer gale
Orange light hits the brick and stone
In this city I feel alone
Tied to stairs made of painted black
With a heavy iron back
Caught in the iron, locked in the heat
Hanging above a dusty street
Summer dusk turns the sky to gold
Holding a story never told
Old ships pass in the harbor haze
I remember the ocean ways
Now I watch the pigeons fly
Underneath a purple sky
Caught in the iron, locked in the heat
Hanging above a dusty street
Summer dusk turns the sky to gold
Holding a story never told
I miss the pull of the deep green tide
Where the silver fishes hide
No more salt and no more foam
Just a city for a home
I can feel the metal shake
When the morning buses wake
Screwing tight to the fire stair
Heavy weight in the humid air
Sun goes down and the wind is still
I am frozen by a stubborn will
Waiting for a hand to free
The anchor that belongs to sea
Caught in the iron, locked in the heat
Hanging above a dusty street
Summer dusk turns the sky to gold
Holding a story never told
Iron grip, iron grip.
Just a piece of old iron grip.
(Fade out)
