He wears a coat of heavy grey
He hides the light of every day
He walks the halls of ink and glue
Searching for a hidden clue
Below the street in cellar air
He finds a kind of quiet there
With yellow pages thin and old
The secret story starts to fold
Paper trails in a basement room
Waking up from a heavy gloom
Turn the page and the truth will show
Where the lonely rivers flow
She holds the stamp and keeps the key
She watches him so silently
A nod of heads a steady gaze
Lost inside a paper maze
Paper trails in a basement room
Waking up from a heavy gloom
Turn the page and the truth will show
Where the lonely rivers flow
Cold coffee in a plastic cup
The heavy lifting picking up
No more chasing the midnight ghost
The simple things he needs the most
The ink is black the margins wide
There is no place for him to hide
He sets his badge upon the shelf
He finds a way to know himself
The ceiling drips a steady beat
Far away from the noisy street
Two strangers meet in candle light
Holding on to the end of night
Paper trails in a basement room
Waking up from a heavy gloom
Turn the page and the truth will show
Where the lonely rivers flow
Just a paper trail.
Keep the coffee hot.
One more page to turn.
