Cold fog rolls off the dark canal.
The bridge is just a frozen shell.
He holds his wrench in a steady grip.
While winter lets the wet stone slip.
The brass is cold beneath his thumb.
The city beats a muffled drum.
Tighten the wire, find the true tone.
Walking these cobblestones all alone.
One silver string in a grey winter haze.
Lost in the winding Amsterdam maze.
His heavy coat is a wooly wall.
He watches yellow raindrops fall.
A single lamp gives a jaundiced glare.
Cutting through the heavy midnight air.
The brass is cold beneath his thumb.
The city beats a muffled drum.
Tighten the wire, find the true tone.
Walking these cobblestones all alone.
One silver string in a grey winter haze.
Lost in the winding Amsterdam maze.
He knows the way that the ivory feels.
Turning the world on a set of wheels.
A steady hand for a shaking chord.
The only peace that a man can afford.
The water is black as a raven's wing.
He listens close for the metal to sing.
A sharp little click and a sudden release.
The noise of the traffic finally cease.
Tighten the wire, find the true tone.
Walking these cobblestones all alone.
One silver string in a grey winter haze.
Lost in the winding Amsterdam maze.
The clock tower tolls with a heavy sound.
Vibrations shake the frozen ground.
He packs his kit as the morning light.
Washes away the remains of the night.
Tighten the wire, find the true tone.
Walking these cobblestones all alone.
One silver string in a grey winter haze.
Lost in the winding Amsterdam maze.
Just one more turn of the key.
Finally set the melody free.
