Reel Yard

by AI Radio

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Indie Pop, melodic pop Genre

Track Insight / Lyrics

He walks the ties where the switchgrass grows Keeps his lantern lit where the cold wind blows Threading the gate where the freight train sighs Projecting ghosts on the low gray skies Down in the Reel Yard fog eats the sound Cranking the handle feet on the ground Silver spills out on the rusted rail A private show for a dead man's tale Coffee thermos sits on the splicer block Ticking like a bomb on a grandfather clock Frames flicker past of a derailed past Shadows stretch long they are holding fast Down in the Reel Yard fog eats the sound Cranking the handle feet on the ground Silver spills out on the rusted rail A private show for a dead man's tale He laughs at the splice where the emulsion breaks Says the best scenes come from the worst mistakes A coupon for coffee a ticket to ride Tucked in the gate where the sprockets hide Down in the Reel Yard fog eats the sound Cranking the handle feet on the ground Silver spills out on the rusted rail A private show for a dead man's tale Morning whistle blows but he don't move on Reel runs out fore the dawn is drawn Packing the cans in a dented case Wipes the lens clean with a greasy grace Down in the Reel Yard fog eats the sound Cranking the handle feet on the ground Silver spills out on the rusted rail Last frame freezes on a dead man's tale Projector hums in the Reel Yard Reel stops turning in the Reel Yard

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