Текст песни
[Verse 1] The copper pot is whistling low The morning sun begins to show Across the floor the sawdust flies Reflected in the barista's eyes [Verse 2] The paper pages turn so fast A moment that was meant to last The baker slides a heavy tray To start the rhythm of the day [Pre-Chorus] The wood is polished to a shine The melody begins to twine A steady pulse beneath the floor I hear the turning of the door [Chorus] The strings are tight and snapping back A narrow trail, a single track The rhythm pulls the heavy weight Before we find the garden gate [Instrumental] [Chorus] The strings are tight and snapping back A narrow trail, a single track The rhythm pulls the heavy weight Before we find the garden gate [Outro] The coffee cools inside the cup The morning tide is rising up And everything is drifting slow With nowhere left for us to go
