
Rig-Life Paradise
Verse 1: Woke up late on the station couch, Tone dropped loud and my back said “Ouch.” Rolled off the stretcher, spilled my Coke, Partner’s already laughin’ at some dark-ass joke. Hit the rig, wheels down and flyin’, Headed to a call where someone’s dyin’… But five minutes in, it’s just toe pain and lies, Guess it’s just another day in rig life paradise. Chorus: I got boots in the blood and sun on my face, Runnin’ full code calls at a turtle’s pace. We ain’t savin’ the world, just buyin’ it time, With a wink, a patch, and a sarcastic line. So pass the salt, and pass the fries — We’re just livin’ that rig life in paradise. Verse 2: Granny's yellin’, wants a ride downtown, Says her sugar’s low, but she’s throwin’ down. Cat scratched her toe, she swears it’s broke, We get there fast — she just wants a smoke. Then it’s three flights up with a dead-ass cot, Liftin’ 400 pounds of “definitely not.” But we smile, nod, and roll the dice, ‘Cause we’re used to the weird in rig life paradise. Chorus (breezy swing): Got IV bags where my beach bag should be, And my margarita's just lukewarm tea. Every siren song’s got a twistin’ vibe, Where the sun sets late and no one’s alive. But hey, we’re laughin’, barely survive — That’s livin’ the rig life in paradise. Bridge (spoken, over a light steel-drum groove): Some folks chase nine to five, But I chase 92s with my pulse alive. My tan lines? They’re from nitrile gloves, And my only vacation’s truck stop grub. Verse 3: Got burn marks on my uniform pants, From trying to lift while doing the stretcher dance. My partner’s cranky, the radio’s broke, And the monitor’s beepin’ just to provoke. But somehow still, I love this place, Where chaos lives with a medic’s grace. And when I die, just roll the dice — Send me lights and sirens to paradise. Chorus (easy, with a smirk): With duct-taped boots and broken pride, We still roll strong on that midnight tide. We don’t get rich, but we earn our slice, Of fried-station food and sarcastic advice. So here’s to the rookies, and salty old guys — We’re all just livin’ that rig life in paradise. (spoken, steel drum fade): “One hand on the wheel... the other holdin’ a cheeseburger from last night’s code.”

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