Cold wind hits the rusted gate.
Pale wings drift and hesitate.
Iron bars are locked in tight.
Tracing edges of the night.
Round and round the dead machine.
Pale white ghost in a rusted scene.
Chasing light that isn't there.
Spinning through the autumn air.
Wooden horses frozen still.
Winter brings a sudden chill.
Empty booths and broken glass.
Watching all the seasons pass.
Oil lamps flicker by the shore.
I don't tend the light no more.
I see you dive and then you dip.
Like a ghost upon a ship.
Round and round the dead machine.
Pale white ghost in a rusted scene.
Chasing light that isn't there.
Spinning through the autumn air.
The clock is ticking on the wall.
The heavy velvet curtains fall.
Hold your breath and hold it tight.
Before we lose the silver light.
Salt is thick upon the skin.
Let the morning tide come in.
One last loop around the wheel.
Touching things you cannot feel.
Round and round the dead machine.
Pale white ghost in a rusted scene.
Chasing light that isn't there.
Spinning through the autumn air.
Race the sun, pale wing.
Hear the metal sing.
Pale wing, fly away.
Into the gray.
