He stands where yellow lines meet tile
And watches shadows stretch a mile
His coat worn thin by salt and gale
The fluorescent buzz turns pale and stale
Salt in the tunnels salt in the bone
He keeps a watch he's always known
No lighthouse beam to cut the night
Just platform edges cold and white
Salt in the tunnels salt in the bone
The last train's gone he stands alone
His hands still know the rope and tar
But grip a cane and transit card
The tunnel wind smells diesel not brine
He checks his watch marks empty time
A station agent locks the gate
The sailor nods accepts his fate
He walks the length where tracks converge
Where oil and soot and steel submerge
Salt in the tunnels salt in the bone
He keeps a watch he's always known
No lighthouse beam to cut the night
Just platform edges cold and white
Salt in the tunnels salt in the bone
The last train's gone he stands alone
Forty years he read the sky
Now reads the maps where platforms lie
The keeper's instinct doesn't fade
Just trades the sea for escalator shade
Morning brings the rush and roar
He blends in like he did before
A ghost in wool a phantom tide
With nothing left to watch but ride
Salt in the tunnels salt in the bone
He keeps a watch he's always known
No lighthouse beam to cut the night
Just platform edges cold and white
Salt in the tunnels salt in the bone
The last train's gone he stands alone
Salt in the tunnels salt in the bone
The keeper watches walks alone
