Grey stone street in the early light
Cold wind shakes the Roman night
I sit here by the heavy door
Waiting for the city roar
Black keys wait for a steady hand
Oldest clock in a foreign land
Silver dew on the copper rim
Morning air is feeling slim
Click and clack on a hollow square
Heavy scent of the morning air
Black ink stains on a yellow page
Old soul locked in an iron cage
Coffee steam starts to drift and rise
Waking up all the sleepy eyes
Walking boots on the granite floor
Taxis line up by the open door
Click and clack on a hollow square
Heavy scent of the morning air
Black ink stains on a yellow page
Old soul locked in an iron cage
The ribbon fades to a ghostly white
Holding on to the ghost of night
One last word for a lonely guest
Before the iron takes a rest
Wine red wine in a crystal glass
Watching all of the tourists pass
Rough red brick and a lazy sun
Now the daily race has begun
Steel and spring with a rhythmic beat
Counting steps on a narrow street
Ink is dry and the paper thin
Wait for the next long day to begin
Click and clack on a hollow square
Heavy scent of the morning air
Black ink stains on a yellow page
Old soul locked in an iron cage
Just a click and a clack. Iron ink.
Stay on the track.
