You climb the ladder to the roof
You bring the copper and the proof
The wires are frayed and turning grey
You work the lines to start the day
Look up high in the attic light
Gold on glass making everything bright
Catch the flash in a wide open frame
Burning hot like a gasoline flame
You find the box with the heavy gear
The static hiss is all you hear
You twist the dial and flick the switch
The signal jumps with a sudden glitch
Look up high in the attic light
Gold on glass making everything bright
Catch the flash in a wide open frame
Burning hot like a gasoline flame
You see the street from a bird's eye view
The yellow bus and the morning dew
The concrete cold and the asphalt black
You take a shot and you don't look back
Strip the wire and solder the lead
Wake the circuit from a winter bed
One quick spark and the power flows
That is how the morning story goes
You wipe the grease from your calloused hand
The loudest noise in a quiet land
You pack the toolkit and lock the door
You leave the ghost on the wooden floor
Look up high in the attic light
Gold on glass making everything bright
Catch the flash in a wide open frame
Burning hot like a gasoline flame
You step away from the attic glare
The salty wind in your messy hair
The lens is clear and the focus tight
You hold the moment in the morning light
Look up high in the attic light
Gold on glass making everything bright
Catch the flash in a wide open frame
Burning hot like a gasoline flame
Just a flash in the frame
Just a gasoline flame Click click click
Cut it quick
