Thirty years of keeping still Pay the rent and pay the bill Drop the bucket on the twine Tapping down the empty line No reflection on the floor Nothing left here anymore Iron hits the dry cement Every drop already spent Reel the empty copper back Let the heavy tether slack Count the silence in the chest Give the apparatus a rest Dry At The Bottom, Down To The Slate Rattling The Handle Too Late Nothing To Offer, Nothing To Draw Scraped By The Wintertime Flaw Drop The Tin Pail, Drop The Hemp Twine Done With The Measure Of Mine Peer into the open throat Brush the dust from off the coat No debate and no dispute Every chamber lying mute Step away from off the ledge Turn the heel against the edge Decades gone without a sound Pebbles rattling on the ground Reel the empty copper back Let the heavy tether slack Count the silence in the chest Give the apparatus a rest Dry At The Bottom, Down To The Slate Rattling The Handle Too Late Nothing To Offer, Nothing To Draw Scraped By The Wintertime Flaw Drop The Tin Pail, Drop The Hemp Twine Done With The Measure Of Mine No depth to plumb No stream underneath Pull back the hand to the sheath Nothing down there Gravel and grit Walk from the lip of the pit Dry At The Bottom, Down To The Slate Rattling The Handle Too Late Nothing To Offer, Nothing To Draw Scraped By The Wintertime Flaw Drop The Tin Pail, Drop The Hemp Twine Done With The Measure Of Mine Dry at the bottom Nothing to draw upon but the absence that's there
