Grey stone cold beneath my boots
Digging deep for ancient roots
Empty tables lined in rows
Where the morning river flows
I carry reels of blackened tape
Looking for a clean escape
Coffee steam begins to rise
Underneath the Roman skies
Flash the light on the cobblestone
Walking through the dark alone
Find the frame and hold it tight
Turning midnight into light
Iron shutters lock the street
Rhythm of a steady beat
I see a face behind a glass
Watching all the phantoms pass
Flash the light on the cobblestone
Walking through the dark alone
Find the frame and hold it tight
Turning midnight into light
The lens is cracked and blurred with age
A lonely bird inside a cage
One soft touch on a shaking hand
Sifting through the golden sand
The cafe doors swing open wide
Nowhere left for me to hide
We share a look and then a smile
I will stay a little while
Projector hums a low refrain
Washing out the winter rain
The white screen catches every spark
Cutting through the heavy dark
Flash the light on the cobblestone
Walking through the dark alone
Find the frame and hold it tight
Turning midnight into light
Silver screen square.
Just a little light.
Silver screen square.
