Intro
Four a.m. gate, frost still holding on the latch
Furnace waking slow, first spark before the match
Verse
Four a.m. gate creaked, cold before the coal caught flame
Pop pulled the ladle steady, called the furnace by its name
Said the heat don't lie to no man, only tells him what he's worth
Every pour's a sermon written straight into the earth
I was ten, held his lunch pail, watched the sparks like falling stars
Learned the difference between a burn and learning who you are
Slag and cinder on his boots, psalm book stitched in leather skin
He never read a verse aloud, just let the iron sing again
Thirty summers on that floor, never missed a single shift
Said the plate don't care about your feelings, only weight you lift
Watched his knuckles turn to gravel, watched his shoulders learn to bend
Still he'd hum a hymn at quitting time like church was gonna end
Momma kept his timecards folded in a cigar box drawer
Said each one's a chapter in a book without a final score
I inherited the calluses before I earned the name
Learned to read a man by embers, not the words that he became
Chorus
We sing iron psalms, hymns forged in the heat
Every scar's a verse, every callus a repeat
No hymnal but the anvil, no choir but the crew
We sing iron psalms till the iron