Verse – Spoken, gravelly] The chaaainsaw hums… It screams… it bites… Trees tumble down, Timber takes flight. Down at Art’s Firewood Warehouse, Heh… that’s where the deal ignites. [Chorus – Sung, bold] Beech. Oak. Pine. Stacked sky-high. Today’s ash sale — Don’t let it pass you by. In-person only, No email replies. [Bridge – Station ID, spoken] W-R-A-N-T… One-Oh-Three… Point… Seven… F-M. Where the wood’s always free… to breathe. [Spoken Tag – chuckling] Art’s Firewood Warehouse, 742 Split Rail Road, Right past the old grain silo. [Call-to-Action – Spoken, warm but firm] Call five-five-five… zero-one-nine-seven. No computers. No nonsense. Just good wood. [Outro – Sung / spoken hybrid] Chainsaw roars, Tree falls, And we’re done. Art’s got your firewood Under the sun. ---
