Track Insight / Lyrics
Down where the heavy bass thumps low,
Hidden where the city currents flow.
A chipped rim resting on a shelf,
A lonely vessel by itself.
Oh, the Ceramic Soul,
Keeping the winter cold.
Tucked in a basement deep,
While the Windy City sleeps.
It saw the horn play midnight gold,
Stories that the alleyways have told.
Stained with a ring of bitter brew,
Waiting for a hand it once knew.
Oh, the Ceramic Soul,
Keeping the winter cold.
Tucked in a basement deep,
While the Windy City sleeps.
The streetlights flicker on the grate,
The midnight fare is always late.
It holds the heat of a ghost's breath,
Stubborn as a gambler cheating death.
Oh, the Ceramic Soul,
Keeping the winter cold.
Tucked in a basement deep,
While the Windy City sleeps.
No fancy glaze or gilded rim,
The light in the cellar is getting dim.
It doesn't break and it doesn't bend,
Waiting for a long forgotten friend.
The taxi tires hum a steady beat,
The salt is grinding on the frozen street.
One little crack in a glaze of white,
Holding on tight through the longest night.
A weathered cup in a velvet room,
Scent of old tobacco and cheap perfume.
It knows the weight of a heavy hand,
The hardest truth in a lonely land.
Oh, the Ceramic Soul,
Keeping the winter cold.
Tucked in a basement deep,
While the Windy City sleeps.
Keep the meter running slow.
Nowhere left for us to go.
Just a cup on a shelf.
By itself.
