Fluorescent hum shakes the tile grout
Last train screams north spitting me out
He turns a peg pulls a slow bow
Low C groans deep in the dark below
Rickenbacker bass leans on his knee
Distorted growl where the notes should be
Felt hammer taps on a steel string crown
Drags the pitch up drags the pitch down
Platform Zero holding the line
Tuning the dark where the rails align
A-four-forty hums in his calloused hand
Steel sings soft where the trains don't land
Just vibration dust silver strand
My camera clicks eats the grainy light
He checks the unison makes it right
Angular rhythm no need for a chord
Octaves stretch wide on a cracked soundboard
Platform Zero holding the line
Tuning the dark where the rails align
A-four-forty hums in his calloused hand
Steel sings soft where the trains don't land
Just vibration dust silver strand
He packs the case when the morning creeps
Wipes the rosin off where the metal sleeps
I hop the turnstile legs like lead
Chasing the note inside my head
Chasing the note inside my head
Bus engine coughs on the avenue
Film canister rattles black and blue
He walks the tracks where the third rail bites
Tuning the silence between the lights
Shutter snaps shut on the platform king
Last perfect fifth begins to ring
Pocket the fork let the silence speak
Walk away as the dawn turns bleak
Platform Zero holding the line
Tuning the dark where the rails align
A-four-forty hums in his calloused hand
Steel sings soft where the trains don't land
Just vibration dust silver strand
Platform Zero thinning frequency
A-four-forty you and me
