[Verse 1: Hard-techno male MC, distorted rumbling kick drum, cold hard-techno chant-rap] Two a.m., the flatbed idles low against the curb I don't knock, I don't call, I don't say a single word Clipboard on the seat with a list of names in red Every one of 'em asleep with a payment overhead Slide the hook beneath the frame, never scratch the paint Chain it, crank it, no alarm, not even a complaint Porch light flickers on, a man in boxers at the glass I just tip my cap and roll, by the time he's out, I've passed Eleven years of haulin' steel, I never missed a pick-up Four a.m., another empty driveway, nobody woke up [Hook: Hard-techno male MC, full hard-techno kick, chanted menacing hook] Hook it, haul it, nothin' personal Lights off, in and out, I'm never seen at all Your name was on the list, I don't make the call Hook it, haul it, nothin' personal [Verse 2: Hard-techno male MC, grinding bass, faster cold hard-techno bars] Lady on Delancey came out swingin' with a rake Said "My husband's in the hospital, for heaven's sake" I said "Ma'am, I got a sheet, I got a quota and a route" Keep my sympathy in the glovebox and I never take it out Kid in pajamas watched me from a second-story pane Asked me where I'm takin' it, I said "where it's paid again" I don't sleep, I don't dream, I don't look at what I tow Every engine's just a number and the numbers gotta go Hook it, haul it, steel on steel, I'm colder than the frame Nothin' personal, I tell 'em, I don't even learn the name [Bridge: Hard-techno male MC, winch whine, the winch whine rises in pitch for four bars as the car lifts, then the hard-techno kick punches back in] Crank it up, crank it up Wheels off the ground Crank it up, crank it up Never make a sound [Verse 3: Hard-techno male MC, distorted rumbling kick drum, coldest hard-techno chant-rap] Five-fifteen, the last one on the list before the light Pulled the sheet out, read the street, and the number wasn't right 'Cause the number was my number and the street was my own street And the car was my gray sedan with the baby in the seat Three months behind since the mill cut all the hours down I been hookin' everybody else's, never lookin' round So I backed the flatbed in, real slow, I didn't wake my wife Slid the hook beneath the frame like I did it all my life Wrote my own name on the sheet in the column marked as done Nothin' personal, I told the mirror, then I walked home in the sun [Final Hook: Hard-techno male MC, full hard-techno kick, coldest chanted hook] Hook it, haul it, nothin' personal Lights off, in and out, I'm never seen at all Your name was on the list, I don't make the call Hook it, haul it, nothin' personal [End]
