Track Insight / Lyrics
Edge of the pine where the salt wind blows,
Where the black timber and the heather grows.
High on a pole where the copper line sings,
A ghost of a bird with a pair of torn wings.
Tangled in needles and rusted grey steel,
The grip of the wire is a cold kind of seal.
He beats at the air with a heavy gold eye,
Under the weight of a slate colored sky.
Hold on tight to the White Wing Wire,
Screaming out loud like a forest fire.
Caught in the hum of a dead power line,
Waiting for light and a heavenly sign.
Feathers are matted with sap and with grime,
Fighting a battle and fighting for time.
The wind shakes the pole with a low steady moan,
A king in a cage and he's out here alone.
Hold on tight to the White Wing Wire,
Screaming out loud like a forest fire.
Caught in the hum of a dead power line,
Waiting for light and a heavenly sign.
The current is humming a deep heavy tone,
Rattling the marrow and shaking the bone.
No room to fly and no room to descend,
Just a long wire that will never quite bend.
I watched from the coast with my lamp in the dark,
Seeing the struggle and seeing the spark.
The pine needles scratch at the velvet of white,
A beacon of grief in the middle of night.
The current is cold and the winter is near,
The sound of the buzzing is all he can hear.
He stops for a moment and looks to the west,
Searching for somewhere to lay down and rest.
Hold on tight to the White Wing Wire,
Screaming out loud like a forest fire.
Caught in the hum of a dead power line,
Waiting for light and a heavenly sign.
White wing wire.
Just a White Wing Wire.
(Deep fuzz fade)
