Tarot · Track 71 · middle
Eight of Pentacles
RWS: a craftsman on a bench with hammer and chisel, one finished pentacle in his hands, six already mounted on the post beside him and one at his feet, a town small in the distance. Keywords: diligence, repetition, mastery accumulated by the hour, and the town he is not in.
No audio yet — generation pending.
Lyrics
[Intro] [Verse 1] The lights are coming on down in the valley Just pinpricks in the graying afternoon I can hear the highway humming through the alley But the dust in here is all I care about right now Six of them are mounted on the timber One is resting heavy by my boot The hammer’s getting warm against my fingers And the chisel finds the bottom of the root [Chorus] Tap, turn, measure, strike It’s the same old motion in the fading light Leave the town to do whatever towns will do I've got this one in my hands, and I'll make it true There's nowhere else I really need to be When the brass gives up its secrets back to me [Verse 2] My thumb is resting heavy on the handle Of a three-eighths flat-edged iron blade It’s a quiet kind of way to earn a living Counting every single mark I've made The valley's pouring out the evening whiskey Laughing at a joke I didn't hear I brush away the shavings from the table The star inside the center's getting clear [Chorus] Tap, turn, measure, strike It’s the same old motion in the fading light Leave the town to do whatever towns will do I've got this one in my hands, and I'll make it true There's nowhere else I really need to be When the brass gives up its secrets back to me [Bridge] Some folks want the lightning and the thunder Some folks want a story they can sell My mind just wants the groove of doing one thing And doing that one thing extremely well It's a rhythm that can keep the dark away Just carving out the wages for the day [Outro] Six on the post. One on the floor. And one right here, that needs a little more. Just a little more off the edge. Yeah.