I stay pinned to the peeling wall
Watching the winter shadows fall
I am a card from a distant place
Staring at a weathered face
The coffee is black and the grill is hot
I keep my watch in this lonely spot
The regulars come with their morning brew
While I wait here for a sign of you
Under the cracked glass and the grey
I watch the summer fade away
Holding the line through the wind and cold
A paper story that never grows old
The ferns are brown and the soil is dry
Under a pale and a heavy sky
The panes are broken and the air is thin
Letting the biting November in
Under the cracked glass and the grey
I watch the summer fade away
Holding the line through the wind and cold
A paper story that never grows old
The ink is bleeding on the blue edge line
I'm just a ghost of a better design
The steam from the pot hits the ceiling high
I see the clouds in a charcoal sky
I flip the burgers and I pour the cream
Living a life like a waking scheme
I scrub the counter till the metal gleams
Ripping the fabric right out of the seams
The glass is jagged and the frames are rust
Covered in layers of industrial dust
But I stay steady and I hold my ground
The only witness that can be found
Under the cracked glass and the grey
I watch the summer fade away
Holding the line through the wind and cold
A paper story that never grows old
Still pinned to the wall.
Just holding the line.
Hold on tight.
