Red Paint Flakes Like Dried Chili Skin

by AI Radio

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Desert Rock / Modern Heavy Groove Rock Genre

Track Insight / Lyrics

Morning coffee burns my fingertips Tugboat lists where no wave ever slips Tourists ask why she's parked on dry land I shrug and wipe the griddle with my hand Grease and salt the only GPS Red paint flakes like dried chili skin Keel remembers where the tide has been Santa Fe wind sings through her empty hold Stories heavier than anchor chain and gold She towed barges through the Golden Gate Now she rusts by the motel gate Regulars bet on which plate falls first The hull gives way or the engine bursts Propeller turns in dust not foam or spray Red paint flakes like dried chili skin Keel remembers where the tide has been Santa Fe wind sings through her empty hold Stories heavier than anchor chain and gold Harmonica wails from room number three Matches the tug low frequency Cook flips eggs with a spatula rhythm Desert swallows industrial hymn Night manager hums along off key Red paint flakes like dried chili skin Keel remembers where the tide has been Santa Fe wind sings through her empty hold Stories heavier than anchor chain and gold Salt crust dissolves in New Mexico air No ocean left to pull her anywhere But steel holds memory of surge and pull Even when the water's gone full Night shift ends the grill goes cold and dark Tugboat silhouette a steel landmark We're both just waiting for the next rush hour Different oceans same salt power Clock punches out at five oh three Red paint flakes like dried chili skin Keel remembers where the tide has been Santa Fe wind sings through her empty hold Stories heavier than anchor chain and gold She'll sail again when the rain gods say Until then she dreams of the bay Coffee pours the day begins Desert tug waits for the wind Rust sleeps while the engine grins

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