Piston Counterpoint

(shhhhh) Three AM, the tower is asleep

(shhh) Only the machines are breathing

Forty stories up in the cold air

I slip past the glass

Into the cathedral

of wire

In the cathedral

of fans, the quiet hums

Before the alarm,

before the fury comes

We steal the light,

we breathe the cold (hurry)

Rows of servers like heavy stone pillars

(click) My fingers

on the terminal keys

Ten gigabytes, twenty, forty

No siren yet

Just the wind

of the cooling fans

In the cathedral

of fans, the quiet hums

Before the alarm,

before the fury comes

We steal the light,

we breathe the cold

(we run now)

Into the dark... (shhhhh)