Copper Wire Grin

[Verse 1]
(a cappella)
The fence bolt gave with a tetanus sigh, like it was waiting.
Ten-speed bikes laid in the Johnson grass, constellations...
(beat drops)
Of rust under a half-moon, August '03, the air was static.
Felt the hum from the transformer, a ghost in the attic
of the city's carcass. K-Bone passed the cutters, heavy steel.
His breath smelled like a blue slush, this was too real and not real.
Said the foreman left a whole damn spool in the basement generator.
We were architects of mischief then, we'd do the math on it later.

[Chorus]
Four-inch scar from the live feed's hum.
That's the receipt for where we came from.
Still trace the line with a numb thumb.
Call that my copper wire grin, son.

[Verse 2]
The dust in there hung thick as insulation, tasted like metal.
Every footstep on the cracked concrete made the silence unsettle.
Flashlight beams cut through the dark, picking out skeletons of machines.
Felt like we were raiding a Pharaoh's tomb for copper kings and queens.
Found the spool, thick as a wrist, a dragon's tail in the gloom.
K-Bone whispered, "Just snip it, man, you're makin' too much room
for second thoughts." I squeezed the tool, the wire fought back with a spark.
Felt the bite right through the glove, a hot signature in the dark.

[Chorus]
Four-inch scar from the live feed's hum.
That's the receipt for where we came from.
Still trace the line with a numb thumb.
Call that my copper wire grin, son.

[Bridge]
Some nights the ghost of that current still jumps from the bone.
A phantom shock left over from a busted load-bearing stone.

[Outro]
Still got the scar. Lost the bike.