Fluorescent hum on cracked white tile
My claws grip cold in dusty pile
Train wind shakes the dust from steel
I blink slow this night is real
Tunnel wings don't need the sky
White face watches trains go by
Three AM and platform deep
Holy quiet mine to keep
Hallelujah in the grime
Tunnel wings mark holy time
Token booth glass reflects my stare
No commuter meets my amber glare
Steel toes tap on concrete beat
I'm the saint of midnight street
Mosaic cracks form cathedral maps
Track fire burns like altar traps
Harmonica breath from maintenance man
He nods slow he understands
Tunnel wings don't need the sky
White face watches trains go by
Three AM and platform deep
Holy quiet mine to keep
Hallelujah in the grime
Tunnel wings mark holy time
Above ground the city screams
Sirens stitch the broken seams
Down here gravity holds different weight
Feathers brush the third rail gate
Psalm fifty-five in rodent Latin
Sanctuary in the rumble's din
First train cuts the darkness clean
Yellow eyes cut through machine
Commuters rush with coffee steam
None detect the sacred scheme
I lift off on silent beat
Tunnel worship incomplete
Tunnel wings don't need the sky
White face watches trains go by
Three AM and platform deep
Holy quiet mine to keep
Hallelujah in the grime
Tunnel wings mark holy time
Tunnel wings mark holy time
White face fades in morning climb
