Steel skin red with flakes of rust
Sinking deep in garden dust
Wild vines climb my heavy side
Nowhere left for me to hide
I am the mirror in the yard
Holding the golden hour hard
Catching the beam from the white wall
Waiting for the summer fall
Old oil stains on the grey floor
I don't carry coal no more
Ivy chokes the iron wheel
Cold wind bites the frozen steel
I am the mirror in the yard
Holding the golden hour hard
Catching the beam from the white wall
Waiting for the summer fall
Workshop tools are sharp and still
Bending to the winter chill
Glass reflects the morning dew
Painting every rusted hue
I am the mirror in the yard
Holding the golden hour hard
Catching the beam from the white wall
Waiting for the summer fall
Light hits the metal like a flare
Hanging in the heavy air
Sinking in the overgrown
Standing in the grass alone
I am the mirror in the yard
Holding the golden hour hard
Catching the beam from the white wall
Waiting for the summer fall
Burning bright, burning white
Hold the light through the night
Iron mirror, hold the light