Gold case scratched by a heavy hand
Sifting through the river sand
I saw the screen in sixty-four
Now I'm knocking on the door
Tick tock on a rusted line
Counting down a different time
Silver gears and a faded view
Bringing back the ghost of you
Cracked concrete where the cars would park
Static humming in the dark
Old asphalt under midnight heat
Rhythm drumming on the street
Tick tock on a rusted line
Counting down a different time
Silver gears and a faded view
Bringing back the ghost of you
The speaker box is lean and grey
Washing all the noise away
Broken glass on a velvet seat
Where the city and the highway meet
Wind the spring and hold the breath
Driving past a quiet death
Steel and oil and copper wire
Burning like a low-light fire
A driver knows the shortest way
Through the smog of a dying day
Keep the needle steady and true
Paint the midnight shade of blue
Tick tock on a rusted line
Counting down a different time
Silver gears and a faded view
Bringing back the ghost of you
The projector lamp is cold and dead
All the movie lines are said
I'll park the cab by the iron gate
Knowing that the hour is late
Tick tock on a rusted line
Counting down a different time
Silver gears and a faded view
Bringing back the ghost of you
Meter's running fast.
Nothing built to last.
Tick. Tock. Done.
