Three a.m. on the subway floor
Cold wind blows through the open door
Steel rails hum in a steady line
Waiting here for a secret sign
Spin the black disc on the brass horn
Something old and something worn
Golden light on a concrete wall
Catch the rhythm before we fall
White tiles shine like a frozen sea
You are standing right next to me
Winding keys make a clicking sound
Feet are heavy on the hollow ground
Spin the black disc on the brass horn
Something old and something worn
Golden light on a concrete wall
Catch the rhythm before we fall
Salt and oil on a keeper's hand
Far away from the coastal sand
City smoke is a thick gray veil
Like a ghost on a rusty rail
Spin the black disc on the brass horn
Something old and something worn
Golden light on a concrete wall
Catch the rhythm before we fall
Low notes drift through the midnight air
Wild and loose like a tangled snare
Heavy boots on the platform stone
Two lost souls in a midnight zone
Swaying left and then swaying right
Holding on to a flicker of light
No more storms and no more deep blue
Just a melody starting anew
Ticking clock on a station wall
Wait for one final distant call
Brass and lacquer and velvet thread
Words of love that we never said
Spin the black disc on the brass horn
Something old and something worn
Golden light on a concrete wall
Catch the rhythm before we fall
Let the record spin.
Let the night begin.
