He sits inside the plastic chair
The humid scent of bleach in air
The rain is drumming on the glass
He watches all the headlights pass
Spinning circles in the grey
Waiting for the break of day
Static humming in his ear
The only sound he wants to hear
He checks the dial on the band
A heavy radio in hand
The lint is clinging to his coat
A lonely song begins to float
Spinning circles in the grey
Waiting for the break of day
Static humming in his ear
The only sound he wants to hear
The washer shakes a rhythmic beat
Cold water splashing on the street
He tunes the knob to find a sign
Across a thin and copper line
Iron steam and heavy rain
Dull out every kind of pain
He hears a voice call out his name
The signal flickers like a flame
The cycle ends with one loud chime
He's counting down the borrowed time
Fold the shirts and clear the tray
Before the midnight turns to grey
Spinning circles in the grey
Waiting for the break of day
Static humming in his ear
The only sound he wants to hear
He packs his bag and turns the light
Into the belly of the night
The rain has slowed to steady drips
A quiet word upon his lips
Spinning circles in the grey
Waiting for the break of day
Static humming in his ear
The only sound he wants to hear
Hold the line.
Just hold the line.
Over and out.
