A cherry frame in peeling paint
The summer air is thick and faint
An iron stair of heavy black
The old wheel holds a silver track
Rusty chrome in the golden heat
Leaning low on a dead-end street
Wait for the wind to shake the bell
A story that the spokes will tell
A leather seat with jagged rips
The humid air in heavy drips
A copper chain in orange rust
A ghost of speed inside the dust
Rusty chrome in the golden heat
Leaning low on a dead-end street
Wait for the wind to shake the bell
A story that the spokes will tell
The sun dips low in amber haze
The alley glows in orange blaze
A metal rail where shadows lean
The quietest sight I've ever seen
Rusty chrome in the golden heat
Leaning low on a dead-end street
Wait for the wind to shake the bell
A story that the spokes will tell
No one comes to ride it home
Left to weather all alone
A frozen clock in summer light
Waiting for the coming night
Rusty chrome in the golden heat
Leaning low on a dead-end street
Wait for the wind to shake the bell
A story that the spokes will tell
Just a frame in the golden heat
Leaning low on a dead-end street
