[Intro]
Grey sky, cold air, diesel on the breeze,
First big melt on a Tuesday, and the water's ill at ease.

[Verse 1]
The first big melt came on overnight,
Hung the whole sky grey in the early light,
And every catch basin down the block was buried to its chin
In a winter's worth of grit and sand and coffee cups tossed in.
The corners turned to ponds with nowhere honest to go,
And I know that look — that's water asking leave to flow.

[Chorus]
Let the water go home, don't make it wait,
It pulled a winter's shift and it's earned the grate,
It don't want a fuss and it don't want a fight,
It just wants the low spot and the fall laid right,
And a man's whole job is to hold the door —
You don't fight the melt, boys, you escort it, nothing more.

[Verse 2]
The city man's shift don't start till eight,
But the melt don't line up at nobody's gate,
So it's first dark, thermos, the espresso black,
And the shovel the city man left me — re-waxed handle — riding in the back.
I snapped a chalk line down the crown of the lane
So the water could read the drawings — gravity's plain —
Dug the winter off them grates one by one down the row,
And the whole street exhaled like a held breath let go.

[Chorus]
Let the water go home, don't make it wait,
It pulled a winter's shift and it's earned the grate,
It don't want a fuss and it don't want a fight,
It just wants the low spot and the fall laid right,
And a man's whole job is to hold the door —
You don't fight the melt, boys, you escort it, nothing more.

[Verse 3]
Now one guy's sump hose, it runs all night,
Watering his neighbour's tulips — that ain't right,
And the corner house downspout quits two inches shy,
Two inches from the grade that keeps a basement dry,
No invitation came and I didn't bring a pen,
The frost line keeps my hours — been that way since who-knows-when,
'Cause I ain't the bylaw and I don't write no fines,
But the water keeps the minutes and it reads the signs.

[Bridge]
The ice told the truth in January,
The puddle in April tells it just as free —
Water's the honest worker: never padded a bill,
Never once looked at the clock, and it never will.

[Chorus]
Let the water go home, don't make it wait,
It pulled a winter's shift and it's earned the grate,
It don't want a fuss and it don't want a fight,
It just wants the low spot and the fall laid right,
And a man's whole job is to hold the door —
You don't fight the melt, boys, you escort it, nothing more.

[Outro]
Now Massimo's out on the sidewalk with his phone held high,
Filming me and the melt outside the Legion — don't ask me why,
And I told him: press a little gravel from my boot in every frame,
Load-bearing honesty, kid — that's the whole game,
So let the water go home, it's the honest thing to do,
And if you spot a man with a chalk line, he's holding the door for you.
That's all.