He's on his feet 
His feet are on the go 
He anticipates a show 
when winter comes home to Erie 

The day is burned away 
Evening comes as an after-thought 
Down below the lake 
salt mines are a subtler plot 

Ore boats cross the lake 
Birds hurry up & down 
riding in the wakes 
when winter comes home to Erie 

Clouds turn to stone 
The city looks frail as bone 
carved by a chinaman 
and left because he died alone 

That's Erie