He leans on a handlebar frame
The morning is cold and it's tame
A thin layer of frost on the seat
Where salt air and river-beds meet
The coffee in his flask is black
He keeps his heavy gear in a sack
He watches for a light on the bay
To carry him far, far away
Silver spokes in the pale gold light
Guarding the dock through the end of night
One lone rider by the wooden pier
Waiting for the ferry to appear
The chain has a speck of red rust
The shoreline is covered in dust
He checks on the pressure of tires
While distant horizons are fires
The coffee in his flask is black
He keeps his heavy gear in a sack
He watches for a light on the bay
To carry him far, far away
Silver spokes in the pale gold light
Guarding the dock through the end of night
One lone rider by the wooden pier
Waiting for the ferry to appear
The gulls make a circle above
A rhythm that looks like a dove
He counts every wave as it breaks
The patience a long journey takes
Iron bolts and a weathered old beam
The river is floating like steam
No one else on the concrete gray floor
Just a man and an open sea door
Silver spokes in the pale gold light
Guarding the dock through the end of night
One lone rider by the wooden pier
Waiting for the ferry to appear
A low horn is sounding a call
The mist starts to shatter and fall
He pushes the bike to the edge
Right on the white limestone ledge
Silver spokes in the pale gold light
Guarding the dock through the end of night
One lone rider by the wooden pier
Waiting for the ferry to appear
The gangplank is lowering slow
Now he has a new place to go
Silver spokes in the light.
