She's a Painted Stone

Lyrics

Have you seen her? Dressed in layers of impossible light? She is not what she seems.

She wasn't born of the earth, not from the mountain's deep, patient heart.
She was born in a Detroit factory cloud, a true work of industrial art.
A fine mist of Ford Torino red, atomized, hanging in the air.
Then a coat of Thunderbird blue, laid down without a care.
Each layer a single moment, a ghost of a chassis passing through.
Baked hard and true.

Oh, she's a painted stone.
She comes in colors from the assembly line.
See her shimmer, see her glow... a captured history in her design.
She's a painted stone.

She slept for decades on a metal skid, forgotten in the curing oven's heat and the percussive noise.
Accumulating strata from a thousand forgotten girls and boys... and their cars.
There... that's a Tuesday from 1973, a rebellious streak of pure Corvette gold.
A silent story told in baked enamel, a legend waiting to be polished and sold.

Oh, she's a painted stone.
She comes in colors from the assembly line.
See her shimmer, see her glow... a captured history in her design.
She's a painted stone.

They finally broke the old racks down, they cleared the factory floors.
Thought she was nothing but hardened refuse, behind those massive doors.
But a wise lapidary eye saw the psychedelic swirls... the agate's hidden face.
...a beauty rescued from time, a queen of this industrial place.

Oh, she's a painted stone!
She comes in colors from the assembly line!
See her shimmer, see her glow... a captured history in her design!
She's a painted stone!
My own Detroit Agate queen!

A queen of hues...
A Motor City ghost...
...polished from the past.
Home.