I lean against a peeling wall
Watching the desert evening fall
My rubber tires are flat and gray
I haven't moved since yesterday
Rust on the chrome and a bent silver rim
The light in the lobby is flickering dim
I'm just a ghost on a porch in the heat
Waiting for someone to walk down the street
The coffee pot hums a heavy sound
Old leather boots hit the sandy ground
A small blue plate and a greasy fork
The midnight wind gives a lonely jerk
I see the trucks in the parking lot
The asphalt shimmer is heavy and hot
They stop for a drink and a quick slice of pie
Under a wide and a colorless sky
Rust on the chrome and a bent silver rim
The light in the lobby is flickering dim
I'm just a ghost on a porch in the heat
Waiting for someone to walk down the street
My chain is stiff and my bell doesn't ring
I forgot how a summer breeze feels when it swings
Just a red frame with a seat made of foam
Far from the driveway I used to call home
The cook wipes the counter with a wet rag
The laundry line holds a white cotton flag
I watch the moon hit the Santa Fe sand
The quietest place in a wide open land
Rust on the chrome and a bent silver rim
The light in the lobby is flickering dim
I'm just a ghost on a porch in the heat
Waiting for someone to walk down the street
Just lean on me.
Stay for a while.
Rust on the chrome.
