Deep in the basement floor
Below the heavy door
Wrapped in a plastic sleeve
Too stubborn now to leave
Slow spin on a rusted reel
The only truth I can feel
Worn out but the sound is bold
Turning the magnetic gold
A smudge of charcoal ink
A coffee stain, a blink
The tape is thin and grey
Holding a yesterday
Slow spin on a rusted reel
The only truth I can feel
Worn out but the sound is bold
Turning the magnetic gold
Chicago wind blows cold
The brassy horns unfold
Swaying in the cellar air
Scent of old perfume there
Slow spin on a rusted reel
The only truth I can feel
Worn out but the sound is bold
Turning the magnetic gold
Screech of the needle head
Words that were never said
Press play and let it bleed
The only ghost I need
Crackle in every line
Like salt upon the brine
We hold the ribbon tight
Inside this velvet night
Slow spin on a rusted reel
The only truth I can feel
Worn out but the sound is bold
Turning the magnetic gold
Magnetic gold
Just hold it tight
Magnetic gold
