The grill is cold and the coffee is black
I keep the grease on a heavy blue rack
I hold the wrench in a shaking right hand
The only soul in this cinderblock land
Tuning the keys in a ruined old hall
Waiting for something to break through the wall
Screwing the pins till the vibration is true
Everything's wrong but I'm starting anew
The bonfire flickers and spits on the stone
I treat the hammers like dogs with a bone
A single G note that refuses to bend
A broken chord that I'm trying to mend
The regulars here are just ghosts in a line
They don't want a menu or a glass of red wine
I wipe the counter with a rag soaked in brine
Just waiting for one silver melody sign
Tuning the keys in a ruined old hall
Waiting for something to break through the wall
Screwing the pins till the vibration is true
Everything's wrong but I'm starting anew
Crank the lever till the tension will snap
The whole damn world is a rusted out trap
I miss the steam and the clink of the plate
Screwing the bolts while I settle my fate
The ivory's yellow and chipped at the edge
I'm balanced out on a crumbling ledge
One final turn and the harmony clears
The kind of sound that can swallow the years
Tuning the keys in a ruined old hall
Waiting for something to break through the wall
Screwing the pins till the vibration is true
Everything's wrong but I'm starting anew
Just a bit flat.
Yeah, that's the one.
Now let it ring.
