He drove a cab for thirty years
He knows the salt and all the fears
He saw a moth with wings of white
Fly back to find a dying light
Pale wings drifting on the breeze
Bending like the willow trees
Salty air and rusted steel
Turning like a wagon wheel
The harbor pier is gray and old
The winter wind is biting cold
That little ghost with powdered skin
Is looking for a way back in
Pale wings drifting on the breeze
Bending like the willow trees
Salty air and rusted steel
Turning like a wagon wheel
He parked the car and lit a smoke
The morning fog began to choke
He watched the moth dive for the foam
A lonely traveler heading home
Pale wings drifting on the breeze
Bending like the willow trees
Salty air and rusted steel
Turning like a wagon wheel
The tide is high and pulling fast
The anchor chain is holding last
A paper wing against the gale
A tiny ship without a sail
Old men know how the current flows
Where the bitter North wind blows
You cannot fight the pulling sea
Or change the way it's meant to be
He shifted gears and drove away
Into the light of early day
The moth is gone beneath the wave
The ocean is a salty grave
Pale wings drifting on the breeze
Bending like the willow trees
Salty air and rusted steel
Turning like a wagon wheel
Just a fare that didn't pay
Wash it all clean in the bay
Pale wings on the breeze
