Salty air hits the rusted steel
Iron gears make a heavy wheel
I watch the tide on the harbor wall
Watching the amber evening fall
Spin the brass and play the gold
Stories that the sailors told
Over the cliffs of Sydney blue
Singing a song that feels brand new
Banksia blooms in the sandy grit
Where the wild coastal grasses knit
Scent of the salt and the loam below
Watching the orange harbor glow
Spin the brass and play the gold
Stories that the sailors told
Over the cliffs of Sydney blue
Singing a song that feels brand new
The Acacia grows in a crooked line
Holding the soil in a tight design
I keep the beat with a steady hand
Rooted deep in the harbor sand
Spin the brass and play the gold
Stories that the sailors told
Over the cliffs of Sydney blue
Singing a song that feels brand new
Black wax grooves in a steady spin
Waiting for the night to begin
Ships in the bay are just tiny dots
Tying the dusk into heavy knots
Copper throat and a wooden base
Looking out at the water's face
Turn the crank till the spring is tight
Holding the ghosts of the harbor light
Callistemon red in the evening breeze
Swaying low with the coastal trees
I am the guard of the windy height
Playing the tune till the morning light
Spin the brass and play the gold
Stories that the sailors told
Over the cliffs of Sydney blue
Singing a song that feels brand new
Spin the wheel, let it go
Spin it fast, spin it slow
Just a horn in the blue.
