Track Insight / Lyrics
I stand here in the slush and grit.
The winter wind is a bitter hit.
My glass is cracked, my paint is old.
The Martinaise air is biting cold.
Cigarette smoke curls in the air.
Gray winter fog is everywhere.
I hold the line, I hold the call.
Waiting for the evening rain to fall.
A driver stops his yellow cab.
The city lights are a neon stab.
He checks his watch, he checks the street.
The slushy ice clings to his feet.
Cigarette smoke curls in the air.
Gray winter fog is everywhere.
I hold the line, I hold the call.
Waiting for the evening rain to fall.
A lonely fare walks past my door.
He doesn't look at me anymore.
He drops a coin, it hits the floor.
I've seen this scene a thousand times more.
Cigarette smoke curls in the air.
Gray winter fog is everywhere.
I hold the line, I hold the call.
Waiting for the evening rain to fall.
The dial spins in a dizzy round.
A heavy silence is the only sound.
The metal box is a salty cage.
A quiet ghost on a concrete stage.
The phone line hums a low steady beat.
Cold water pools on the empty street.
One last breath before the light goes dim.
The city cup is full to the brim.
The taxi turns the corner fast.
The midnight rush is a thing of past.
I wear the rust like a heavy gown.
The only anchor in this floating town.
Cigarette smoke curls in the air.
Gray winter fog is everywhere.
I hold the line, I hold the call.
Waiting for the evening rain to fall.
Sea green booth, standing still.
Just a shell, feel the chill.
Sea green booth.
