Track Insight / Lyrics
You walk where the tall pine trees stand,
The salt air is far from this land.
The telephone poles line the way,
While gold turns to charcoal and gray.
You find where the needle will spin,
Where the old wooden melodies begin.
A crank and a turn of the gear,
The sound of the shoreline is near.
Wind it up for the forest edge,
Balance on the narrow stone ledge.
Copper horn and a dusty black shell,
Ringing like a heavy iron bell.
The wires hum a low steady drone,
You stand in the clearing alone.
The pine needles cushion your feet,
While the brass and the heavy bass meet.
Wind it up for the forest edge,
Balance on the narrow stone ledge.
Copper horn and a dusty black shell,
Ringing like a heavy iron bell.
The lamp in the tower is gone,
But this little record holds on.
No beacon to guide every ship,
Just a steady and rhythmic slow trip.
The current is humming in lines,
Cutting through the needles and pines.
You watch as the needle tracks deep,
While the restless wild creatures all sleep.
The brass glow is warm in the air,
A moment that you get to share.
The winding is slow and it's right,
Holding back the cold of the night.
Wind it up for the forest edge,
Balance on the narrow stone ledge.
Copper horn and a dusty black shell,
Ringing like a heavy iron bell.
Just a turn of the key.
Let the music go free.
Let it spin.
