You wipe the counter down with rag stained brown
The grill goes cold before the sun goes down
A moth taps glass where frost has drawn its crown
Pale wings catch light in this quiet town
Pale wing drift on orchard air
Snow catches in its fine white hair
You pour a cup steam climbs the wall
The moth don't answer when you call
The regulars don't ask what you see
They know the night shift plays for free
You point with spoon to apple tree
Where white wings shake in sympathy
Pale wing drift on orchard air
Snow catches in its fine white hair
You pour a cup steam climbs the wall
The moth don't answer when you call
The orders stack the tickets fly
But you're still watching drift go by
Each flap a rustle low and dry
No customer asks you why
Pale wing drift on orchard air
Snow catches in its fine white hair
You pour a cup steam climbs the wall
The moth don't answer when you call
The dawn breaks pale through kitchen glass
The moth is gone the moment passed
You flip the eggs you watch them sizzle fast
Another night another last
Pale wing drift on orchard air
Snow catches in its fine white hair
You pour a cup steam climbs the wall
Pale wing drift you saw it all
