I sit beside the gravel road
Carrying a heavy load
Iron skin and peeling paint
Holding on until I faint
The headlights cut the midnight blue
I wait for someone kind and true
I am the watchman of the lot
Tied to a lonely garden spot
Watching the electric colors glow
Waiting for the wind to blow
A silver sedan stops its flight
Bathed in a humming purple light
The driver leaves a suitcase there
Static charging in the air
The headlights cut the midnight blue
I wait for someone kind and true
I am the watchman of the lot
Tied to a lonely garden spot
Watching the electric colors glow
Waiting for the wind to blow
Dry inside and cold as stone
Standing in the dark alone
I remember water in my hold
Before the winter air turned cold
A single drop of oil spills
Rolling down the concrete hills
The motor hums a steady beat
Burning on the asphalt heat
I am the watchman of the lot
Tied to a lonely garden spot
Watching the electric colors glow
Waiting for the wind to blow
A girl with a camera takes a shot
Of the rust inside this vacant plot
She smiles at the way I lean
The strangest sight she's ever seen
I am the watchman of the lot
Tied to a lonely garden spot
Watching the electric colors glow
Waiting for the wind to blow
Rusty red and standing still
Waiting on the window sill