You lean against the rusted rail
The summer heat is thick and stale
A silver dial in your hand
Lost inside a concrete land
Point the needle to the north
Call the hidden spirit forth
Silver spinning in the glare
Heavy scent of humid air
Like a root in salted clay
You watch the orange light decay
Under iron stairs you wait
Locking in a frozen state
Point the needle to the north
Call the hidden spirit forth
Silver spinning in the glare
Heavy scent of humid air
Serrula grows through the crack
Green against the soot and black
You trace the line of every vein
Waiting for the sudden rain
Point the needle to the north
Call the hidden spirit forth
Silver spinning in the glare
Heavy scent of humid air
Cold metal on a sweaty palm
A sudden shift of heavy calm
No map to show the way to go
Just the steady rhythmic flow
The glass is scratched and clouded grey
The city noise fades far away
You hold the circle tight and fast
Knowing that the glow won't last
Point the needle to the north
Call the hidden spirit forth
Silver spinning in the glare
Heavy scent of humid air
Hold the silver north
Call the spirit forth
Silver North!