You walk down the concrete stair
Cold air hits your tired face
Old books scent the heavy air
In this quiet basement space
You find the box on the floor
Tied with a yellowing string
Open up the heavy door
See what the old archives bring
Leather gloves in the low light
Gleaming like a polished stone
Holding on to the midnight
In a room where you're alone
They look like a pair of hands
Waiting for a winter day
Like a map of forgotten lands
Where the city colors gray
Leather gloves in the low light
Gleaming like a polished stone
Holding on to the midnight
In a room where you're alone
The meter is running slow
The fare is a heavy cost
The deeper the archives go
The more that the truth is lost
You touch the skin of the hide
Smooth as a river in May
Keep all the secrets inside
Until the break of the day
A driver knows how to wait
A passenger knows the ride
Open the heavy iron gate
Let the old memories glide
Leather gloves in the low light
Gleaming like a polished stone
Holding on to the midnight
In a room where you're alone
Just a pair of leather gloves.
Quiet in the low light.
Yeah, that's the fare.
Keep the change.
