Track 9 of the album Platform Nine · 2012
The Man Who Trued the Wheel
“A wheelwright's workshop with the light coming in sideways. The harp on this one is the nearest I came to showing off.”
neoclassical · neoclassical · pastoral · 3:49
Lyrics
Down the lane behind the bakery, a workshop full of light Spokes like silver harp strings hanging bright He hums above the wheel as it turns beneath his hand A bend as small as a hair, and he knows just where to stand He listens to the spinning like a doctor to a heart A tap here, a tap there, and the wobble falls apart Children bring their bicycles, old ladies bring their cares He mends them all with patience and with a little oil and prayers The man who trued the wheel Bends the crooked road until it runs so true Turn by turn and spoke by spoke He gives the world a way to carry you The man who trued the wheel Knows that what is bent can be made whole A steady hand, a patient ear And everything rolls on, rolls on, rolls on He never asks for thanks, just a nod and a smile And the sound of a freewheel ticking down the mile When the evening comes he hangs his apron on the door And lets the quiet workshop hum a little more The man who trued the wheel Bends the crooked road until it runs so true Turn by turn and spoke by spoke He gives the world a way to carry you The man who trued the wheel Knows that what is bent can be made whole A steady hand, a patient ear And everything rolls on, rolls on, rolls on Somewhere a morning rider Is gliding through the dawn Never knowing the hands that made it right Never knowing the song The man who trued the wheel Bends the crooked road until it runs so true Turn by turn and spoke by spoke He gives the world a way to carry you The man who trued the wheel Knows that what is bent can be made whole A steady hand, a patient ear And everything rolls on, rolls on, rolls on Rolls on, rolls on Turning true, turning true