He walks the basement floor in black
The heavy case upon his back
He finds the keys in velvet red
Where all the midnight ghosts are fed
He pulls a silver wire tight
Under the yellow bulb of light
He hits a C and lets it ring
While the old copper cables sing
Turn the key and make it right
Hold the note inside the night
Swing the hammer, find the beat
Down in the hollows of the street
A girl with lenses on her neck
Snaps a shot of a broken deck
She sees him lean into the wood
A quiet spark understood
Turn the key and make it right
Hold the note inside the night
Swing the hammer, find the beat
Down in the hollows of the street
The bass line gallops fast and loud
Above the humming city crowd
Two strangers lock a sudden gaze
Lost in a sharp and sonic haze
He checks the octave one last time
A steady rhythm, a perfect rhyme
She catches angles of his hand
The only man who understands
The club above begins to roar
The crowd is flooding through the door
He packs his tools and starts to go
Leaving the magic in the glow
Turn the key and make it right
Hold the note inside the night
Swing the hammer, find the beat
Down in the hollows of the street
Just one turn. Just one tone.
One click.
