Iron gate swings slow at dawn
Quarter drops and night is gone
Pixel ghosts glow green and pale
Synth chords rise on rusted rail
He counts the change in calloused hands
Hums old anthems no one understands
Choir breath still shapes his chest
Altos buried in the rest
Tollbooth hymn on synth and string
Bridge don't move but coins still sing
Cabinets hum Donkey Kong
Joystick grease where thumbs belong
Neon burns through fogged glass panes
Rain taps rhythm on the lanes
He counts the change in calloused hands
Hums old anthems no one understands
Choir breath still shapes his chest
Altos buried in the rest
Tollbooth hymn on synth and string
Bridge don't move but coins still sing
Winter seals the booth in ice
Fingers stiff on metal twice
Harmonium drones low and deep
While pixel martyrs fall asleep
No stained glass here just cathode light
No organ swell just 8-bit night
But when the last car rolls away
He sings the Gloria anyway
Spring brings mud and pothole spray
Tourists feed the machine all day
He nods at kids with sticky palms
Calm as psalms in empty naves
He counts the change in calloused hands
Hums old anthems no one understands
Choir breath still shapes his chest
Altos buried in the rest
Tollbooth hymn on synth and string
Bridge don't move but coins still sing
Summer dusk and fireflies
Reflect in lenses of his eyes
Final quarter clicks the slot
Hymn ends where the synth does not
He counts the change in calloused hands
Hums old anthems no one understands
Choir breath still shapes his chest
Altos buried in the rest
Tollbooth hymn on synth and string
Bridge don't move but coins still sing
Bridge don't move but coins still sing
Fiddle fades on wooden stair
Quarter spins in evening air
