| Faster, hammers
|
| Faster, hammers
|
| Churn and turn into my late train to my lost love
|
| Ring away today, stick, bruise into my felt, or so I felt
|
| I found a skeleton tooth in the junk drawer
|
| And I mean to open the folding green and white door
|
| And take a late train to my lost love
|
| Faster, hammers!
|
| Faster, hammers!
|
| Listen to those dead pianos, pins stuck in their hearts
|
| Clang tap bell pedal down dead wood chipped and dull dark steel
|
| Rattling and chattering and chilly on a damp November afternoon
|
| On tracks one and two
|
| And twelve and thirteen
|
| On that ribbon spinning and computer colors
|
| Tick tacks on round wire
|
| Spun steel spark on three rail thin lines
|
| See a minor, a little girl
|
| Ask if she would like for instance some fudge
|
| But I didn’t budge, and said I didn’t care
|
| I wanted to sit, and I wanted to stare
|
| Spin steel, tick tack on three little strings made three little rails made one
|
| note clunk
|
| Three rails squeaking and sputtering down the west side
|
| I found a skeleton tooth in the junk drawer and I mean to open the folding
|
| green and white door
|
| And take a late train to my lost love
|
| Faster, hammers!
|
| Faster, hammers!
|
| Chatter down the tracks, you thumb tack smiley skull teeth
|
| Ticking five dollar throwaway pianos past
|
| A late train to my lost love
|
| Listen to those dead pianos, pins stuck in their hearts
|
| Clang tap bell pedal down dead wood chipped and dull dark steel
|
| Rattling and chattering and chilly on a damp November afternoon
|
| On tracks one and two
|
| And twelve and thirteen
|
| On that ribbon spinning and computer colors
|
| Tick tacks on round wire
|
| Spun steel spark on three rail thin lines
|
| Late, by act of Congress and blue all the way to Forest Park
|
| And this ribbon spinning and computer color
|
| Into a public transport for everyone to hear and get on track
|
| And back to my lost love
|
| Faster, hammers!
|
| Faster, hammers!
|
| We’re almost there
|
| Faster, hammers!
|
| We’re almost there
|
| I’d like to tell you a story, kids
|
| But instead I’ll change the subject
|
| Listen to this tune, it sounds like a condolence card
|
| Bought at the last minute for someone you can’t stand
|
| For someone you never liked
|
| And isn’t it cute
|
| La la la…
|
| Listen to this tune I’m playing now, kids
|
| Does it seem sad
|
| Does it remind you of when |