I hold the wrench in my hand
The humid air feels like sand
I walk the aisle of the green
The strangest place I have seen
The piano sits in the shade
Where the wild ivy has strayed
I touch the ivory white
Under a pale morning light
Tuning the notes in the rain
Healing the sound of the pain
Glass panes are cracked in the sky
Watching the city go by
A sudden snap in the frame
The wind is calling my name
A shard of crystal falls down
Far from the noise of the town
Tuning the notes in the rain
Healing the sound of the pain
Glass panes are cracked in the sky
Watching the city go by
I pull the wire tight and thin
Letting the harmony in
One sharp turn and one deep breath
Fighting a quiet kind of death
The ferns are wrapping my wrist
Wrapped in a silver grey mist
I lose the key to the door
Feet on the damp earthen floor
The city lights blink in the east
The heavy tension has ceased
I find the pitch and the tone
Standing here feeling alone
Tuning the notes in the rain
Healing the sound of the pain
Glass panes are cracked in the sky
Watching the city go by
Just one more turn of the screw
Making the old music new
The glass chord.
