Fog rolls in on copper tide
Blade catches light from inside
Lamp oil stains my calloused hands
Salt wind cuts the harbor strand
Silver cloth on silver steel
Dawn breaks cold on Beacon Hill
Silver on brick in autumn light
Steel sings soft through the night
Boston bones beneath my boot
History waits at my foot
Brick laid deep by Puritan hand
Centuries grind like grains of sand
Monster blood won't stain the path
I keep watch on shadow's wrath
Silver on brick in autumn light
Steel sings soft through the night
Boston bones beneath my boot
History waits at my foot
Fenway lights paint clouds amber gold
Charles River runs dark and cold
Silver ready in my grip
No beast walks this sidewalk strip
Silver on brick in autumn light
Steel sings soft through the night
Boston bones beneath my boot
History waits at my foot
Acorn shells crunch under heel
Autumn smells of wood and steel
Witcher's trade is quiet work
No fanfare for the lurking murk
Old lens sweeps the harbor mouth
Salt and time head further south
Now my beam is silver steel
Guarding bricks that watch and heal
Lantern swings on rusted pole
Keeper's instinct in my soul
Tide turns hard but I remain
Silver clean on brick and rain
Silver on brick in autumn light
Steel sings soft through the night
Boston bones beneath my boot
History waits at my foot
Silver on brick, the watch goes on
Dawn breaks cold, the night is gone