I sit on a table of pine
A thin yellow string is my line
The plaster is gone from the wall
The ceiling is starting to fall
Wax and iron, heat and cold
A story in silver and gold
Melting the white of the street
Turning the winter to heat
The coffee is black in the pot
The metal is glowing and hot
They bring in the snow in a pan
To save every soul that they can
Wax and iron, heat and cold
A story in silver and gold
Melting the white of the street
Turning the winter to heat
The wind whistles through a cracked pane
The copper is stained by the rain
They huddle in coats made of wool
Until the old kettle is full
Wax and iron, heat and cold
A story in silver and gold
Melting the white of the street
Turning the winter to heat
I flicker and fight with the draft
The neighbors all huddled and laughed
They share a dry crust and a joke
While drifting in charcoal and smoke
The wick is getting short and thin
The frozen night is closing in
Hold the flame close to the bone
We are not standing here alone
The morning is grey and it's bleak
The hinges are starting to squeak
The water is boiling and clear
The end of the winter is near
Wax and iron, heat and cold
A story in silver and gold
Melting the white of the street
Turning the winter to heat
Just a spark in the dark
Keep the fire alive
Keep the fire alive
