Chrome pots hum on a blue flame heat.
Wet boots clicking on a tiled sheet.
Wooden case lying on the floor.
Cold wind rattling the kitchen door.
Silver spoons in a porcelain cup.
Old tea leaves slowly floating up.
Searching for the resin on the shelf.
Talking quiet to my lonely self.
Hold the bow and feel the wire pull.
Keep the empty copper kettle full.
Sling the strap and walk the city line.
Turn the rust into a golden shine.
White curtains shaking in the breeze.
Bending low like the winter trees.
Tuning pegs turning with a snap.
Trapped inside a little velvet trap.
Hold the bow and feel the wire pull.
Keep the empty copper kettle full.
Sling the strap and walk the city line.
Turn the rust into a golden shine.
Steam rises high in a heavy cloud.
The morning hum is getting way too loud.
One last look at the yellow kitchen wall.
Wait for the autumn leaves to start to fall.
Check the pocket for a heavy coin.
Where the street and the alleyway join.
Rub the rosin on the horsehair tight.
Walking out into the early light.
Coffee stains on a paper map.
Thunder sounding like a sudden clap.
Tighten up the chin rest on the wood.
Doing everything the teacher said he should.
Hold the bow and feel the wire pull.
Keep the empty copper kettle full.
Sling the strap and walk the city line.
Turn the rust into a golden shine.
Steam and rosin, gold and grey.
Walking out to start the day.
