Brush hits hide where pine needles fall
Wires hum above the treeline tall
Wax and grit on calloused thumb
Polish sings a low quiet hum
Moog pulse drives the frozen air
Juno shimmers thin and bare
Gated snare cuts pine-scented night
Leather drinks the pale moonlight
Pine and wire, pine and wire
Buffing dark with hands that tire
Telephone poles hum like choir
Hymns half-remembered rising higher
Boots I mend for loggers' feet
Walk these lines where wind and sleet
Each stitch a prayer I used to know
From alto bench in nave long ago
Pine and wire, pine and wire
Buffing dark with hands that tire
Telephone poles hum like choir
Hymns half-remembered rising higher
Preamp clips the breath I take
Cold reverb for sadness' sake
Mono rhythm kicks the chest
Anthem builds from deep unrest
Sap sticks fast to buffing wheel
Pine tar seals the leather heel
Wire sways in gusty breath
Hums the tune of forest depth
Dawn breaks grey on insulator
Cobbler's work is never over
Pack the kit and hit the road
Carry light and heavy load
Pine and wire, pine and wire
Buffing dark with hands that tire
Telephone poles hum like choir
Hymns half-remembered rising higher
Pine and wire, pine and wire
thinning on the telephone wire
Buffing soles till dawn
