Midnight Choir Loft Dust
Verse 1 The organ pipes look down like rusted ribs of steel
Silent mouths just waiting for a hand to make them feel. The moon leans in through glass that time has cracked
A saint is missing
just a hole of black. The robes hang in the closet
thin and gray
Swaying when the wind comes out to play. Up in the loft
a note is hanging low
A memory that doesn’t want to go.
Verse 2 The wooden steps complain beneath the boot
Dry splinters snapping like a deadened root. The dust is thick upon the wooden rail
Soft gray fur where knuckles used to fail. The spiders stitch the lace between the beams
Catching light that falls in jagged streams. I reach the top and breathe the heavy air
Of candle smoke and paper hanging there.
Pre-Chorus The town has moved to malls and shiny gyms
With speakers loud enough to kill the hymns. This place is left to pigeons and the rain
The walls are holding onto every stain.
Chorus Midnight dust is floating in the light
Like breath from lungs that sang with all their might. Every speck a note that broke apart
A voice that’s still suspended in the heart. Walk softly where the heels were lined in rows
Eyes upon the glass where nothing grows. If you hum the tune they used to know
The dust will spin and let the memory flow.
Verse 3 The books are open, yellow at the page
Ink is bled from sweat and from the age. Pencil circles mark the high note missed
Arrows begging mercy from the list. A name is written in a curly hand
Pressed deep enough to make the paper stand. I run a finger on the groove it made
Feeling heat inside the cooling shade.
Pre-Chorus I see a girl in robes that fit her wrong
Throat is raw from reaching for the song. Heart is racing fast with something hidden
Carrying a secret, unbidden.
Chorus Midnight dust is floating in the light
Like breath from lungs that sang with all their might. Every speck a note that broke apart
A voice that’s still suspended in the heart. Walk softly where the heels were lined in rows
Eyes upon the glass where nothing grows. If you hum the tune they used to know
The dust will spin and let the memory flow.
Bridge A storm rolls on the roof with heavy sound
Rain is ticking on the tin all round. Lightning flashes through the broken pane
Painting color on the wood and grain. For a second
faces fill the air, Mouths are open
singing in the flare. Then the dark folds back across the board
Leaving just the silence of the Lord.
Outro I climb back down with gray upon my sleeve
A tune stuck in the ribs before I leave. The doors will creak and shut behind my back
But wind will keep the choir on the track.