Track Insight / Lyrics
Night settles heavy on Dispatch and Main
Fare dropped me off where the pilot boats strain
She unpacks panels where gulls scream and dive
Copper and solder caught raw in the tide
Fog horns moan low through the rigging and wire
Taxi meter ticks like a slow choir
Fingers trace cartoons on weathered pine boards
Lead came bends easy to harbor wind's chords
No church commission, no saint in a frame
Just salt-water saints with no latin name
Flux smells sweet as the iron gets hot
Solder flows smooth in the groove that she cut
Salt bites the lead lines, wind cuts the glass
Harbor light fractures in colors that pass
Pier planks groan low like a hymn in the rain
Meter keeps ticking while colors parade
Grinder screams sharp where the bullseye meets score
Glass dust settles on her oilskin floor
She swears at the wind like a preacher at sin
Pieces lock tight where the copper goes in
Sun catches ruby, a bloody nose glow
Cobalt and amber burning slow
Salt bites the lead lines, wind cuts the glass
Harbor light fractures in colors that pass
Pier planks groan low like a hymn in the rain
Meter keeps ticking while colors parade
Twenty years driving this town's broken veins
Never saw beauty survive in the stains
Now light bleeds ruby and blue through the grey
Worth more than the fares that I haul every day
Tide turns slack, she packs up her gear
Panels wrapped careful in canvas and fear
Headlights catch colors still stuck on her coat
Radio crackles a dispatch boat note
Engine idles soft on the cobblestone street
Boots on the pedal
