歌詞

Wooden handle, brass and pine

An old machine that still works fine

Round and round the handle goes

A rhythm in my hand

The crackle turns to powder soft

Like turning time to sand

The kitchen keeps the beat with me

The sunlight taps its toe

Grind it slow, grind it fine

Put your shoulders in the song

Every turn's a tiny drum

And you can hum along

My grandmother had one like this

It sang the same low tune

A hundred quiet afternoons

Are folded in this room

Grind it slow, grind it fine

Put your shoulders in the song

Every turn's a tiny drum

And you can hum along

Mmm... mmm... mmm

Grind it slow, grind it fine

Put your shoulders in the song

Every turn's a tiny drum

And you can hum along

Wooden handle, brass and pine

And you can hum along