Black ink spills on the street
Warm tires hum in the heat
Midnight drizzle is cold
Stories left to be told
Copper bird on the roof
Frozen still, living proof
Under pink buzzing glare
Static fills up the air
Turning round in the blue
Looking for something true
Copper wind in the night
Holding on to the light
Shift the gear, take a turn
Old lessons left to burn
Fare is paid in a dime
Counting out all the time
Turning round in the blue
Looking for something true
Copper wind in the night
Holding on to the light
Rusty metal and gold
Breaking out of the mold
One sharp spin to the east
Wake the ghost and the beast
Raindrops blur out the glass
Watching all the cars pass
Huddled deep in the lane
Washing off all the stain
Salty wind from the bay
Sweeps the city away
Copper wing starts to glide
Nowhere left for to hide
Turning round in the blue
Looking for something true
Copper wind in the night
Holding on to the light
Spinning slow in the rain
Turning back to the lane
Copper wind, copper wind