| The low hiss of the tape machine |
| Well that'll put your mind to rest |
| The ice chips and the grenadine |
| The January acid test |
|
| I park the car beside the gate |
| I watch the waves against the wall |
| In every way the hours late |
| And we're just waiting on a call |
|
| I push the pedal |
| I make the harmony sing |
| Teeth in the medal |
| Baby, it's all that I bring |
| Oh but |
|
| No sirens or the flashing lights |
| To flood the garden blue and red |
| Asleep awake and in between |
| The roses and the robin's bed |
|
| The morning light on Thomas Street |
| The party that you couldn't miss |
| My nightingale the last to leave |
| I used to be your catalyst |
|
| I push the pedal |
| I make the harmony sing |
| Teeth in the medal |
| Baby, it's all that I bring |
| Oh but |
|
| I push the pedal |
| I make the harmony sing |
| But I can't make sense of anything |
|
| The low hiss of the tape machine |
| Well, that'll put your mind to rest |
| The ice chips and the grenadine |
| The January acid test |
|