Bus ride ended at the bend
Where the paved road meets the end
I carried my lens through the white
Walking fast to beat the night
A wooden square on a hill of snow
Where the orange torch begins to glow
One bright spark in the frozen deep
While the heavy winter mountains sleep
Cedar walls and a heavy door
Old pine boards on a dusty floor
I snapped a shot of the iron lock
Counting seconds on a ticking clock
A wooden square on a hill of snow
Where the orange torch begins to glow
One bright spark in the frozen deep
While the heavy winter mountains sleep
Cold wind bites at my denim sleeve
A lonely place that I'll never leave
I set the tripod by the glass
Watching white clouds slowly drift and pass
A wooden square on a hill of snow
Where the orange torch begins to glow
One bright spark in the frozen deep
While the heavy winter mountains sleep
The torch is humming a golden tune
Underneath a paper winter moon
I feel the heat on my shaking skin
Letting all the quiet magic in
No more maps and no more city noise
Just the clicking of my favorite toys
I am safe inside this timber shell
Cast a golden light, a ringing bell
I keep the frame of the burning light
Burning holes through the velvet night
Silver frost on the window pane
Far away from the city rain
A wooden square on a hill of snow
Where the orange torch begins to glow
One bright spark in the frozen deep
While the heavy winter mountains sleep
Just one frame.
Keep it bright.
The wooden square.
