You roll the platen past Circular Quay
Ferries cut glass where the opera used to pray
Ribbon snaps taut on the harbor's last breath
Typebars strike salt into letters of death
Keys don't lie when the wind turns cold
Stories rise where the steel cables hold
You type the dusk in a single line
Ribbon wind writes what the light leaves behind
Carbon paper catches the bridge's red glow
Headlights bleed east where the dark waters flow
Your fingers remember what the city forgot
Each keystroke a prayer the tourists did not
Keys don't lie when the wind turns cold
Stories rise where the steel cables hold
You type the dusk in a single line
Ribbon wind writes what the light leaves behind
Paper jams hard on a memory of rain
Sydney Tower points where the night winds remain
Harbour Bridge arches like a question mark bent
You hammer the truth with the force you spent
Keys don't lie when the wind turns cold
Stories rise where the steel cables hold
You type the dusk in a single line
Ribbon wind writes what the light leaves behind
Last page feeds through as the stars blink awake
No delete key for the choices you make
The carriage returns to the far left edge
You sign your name in the dust on the ledge
Keys don't lie when the wind turns cold
Stories rise where the steel cables hold
You type the dusk in a single line
Ribbon wind writes what the light leaves behind
Ribbon wind writes what the light leaves behind
Carriage returns to its resting home
Silence hums in the fading gloam
