You lean on your chrome handlebars
The station is cold and it's gray
You look at the distance of stars
While waiting for morning to sway
Hold your breath in the hollow white light
Hold your breath till the edges turn blue
You are the ghost of a late city night
Searching for something that's true
Your tires leave a streak on the floor
The ticket booth window is shut
You pace by the heavy steel door
A deep and a permanent cut
Hold your breath in the hollow white light
Hold your breath till the edges turn blue
You are the ghost of a late city night
Searching for something that's true
The clock on the wall has a tick
The air smells of ozone and oil
The yellowing paint is too thick
The copper and iron will spoil
Hold your breath in the hollow white light
Hold your breath till the edges turn blue
You are the ghost of a late city night
Searching for something that's true
Your fingers are numb from the wind
The chain on your gear is a blur
The long day is finally thinned
And memories start as a stir
I kept a lamp in the tower for years
I watched for the ships in the gale
I know how the waiting brings fears
And how the old anchors will fail
You check for a sign on the rail
The tunnel is pitch black and deep
The courage you carry is frail
While all of the city folk sleep
Hold your breath in the hollow white light
Hold your breath till the edges turn blue
You are the ghost of a late city night
Searching for something that's true
The first light is hitting the street.
Pedal slow.
Just pedal slow.
