Mud And Grease

by AI Radio

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Soul Ballad / Warm 70s Analog Genre

Track Insight / Lyrics

Eggs crack slow on blackened steel plate Orders stack like artillery freight Bacon pops like distant cannon fire Night shift burns on borrowed telephone wire Mud and grease on weary working hands Thunder shakes the wide prairie lands Helmet rests in foreign red clay Diner neon guides the lost way Boots sink deep in frozen trench ground Short order grill the only sound Letters folded in wool breast pocket Toast burns black like morning sky rocket Mud and grease on weary working hands Thunder shakes the wide prairie lands Helmet rests in foreign red clay Diner neon guides the lost way Pie sits cooling on the wooden sill Shrapnel tears the quiet morning still Regulars ask for extra brown gravy Soldiers dream of home sweet and brave-ly Mud and grease on weary working hands Thunder shakes the wide prairie lands Helmet rests in foreign red clay Diner neon guides the lost way Radio plays Hank Williams old songs Artillery joins right in along Ketchup stains on leather combat boots Truth is stranger than the evening news Dawn breaks greasy on the flat top grill No more shells no more combat kill Helmet hangs on coat rack rusty nail Coffee keeps the dark details pale Mud and grease on weary working hands Thunder shakes the wide prairie lands Helmet rests in foreign red clay Diner neon guides the lost way Mud and grease on weary working hands Thunder shakes the wide prairie lands Coffee cup and rifle barrel gleam Peace tastes like a short order dream

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