Lot 47 Pickup Window

[Intro] Lot 47, 5:31 AM Fog sitting low like it owns the place Somebody’s yelling about paperwork already I haven’t even found the trailer yet [Verse 1] Pulled into the yard like a bad decision Signs everywhere but no clear vision “Check in here” points to three directions Each one led to more confusion Security guard just shrugged and smiled Said “depends on who you ask, driver” I’ve been here twenty minutes maybe three hours Time moves weird in forklift towers [Pre-Chorus] Got a clip board mystery Missing seal number tragedy And a dock door blinking like it knows my fate But it keeps changing every eight [Chorus] Lot forty-seven, where logic goes to die Forklifts race like thunder under gray sky Paperwork screaming, nobody agrees Trailer 812 might be somewhere between A stack of pallets and a rumor chain And a guy who swears he signed my name I came for freight, I got delay Welcome to the yard dog ballet [Verse 2] Yard jockey moving like a caffeinated ghost One hand waving, one hand “don’t get close” Dock door opens, dock door closes Every answer leads to more diagnoses Someone says “it’s over by the fence” Fence has three fences that don’t make sense I swear I saw my trailer roll by slow Or maybe that was just my soul [Pre-Chorus] CB static in my brain Forklift horns like falling rain Every direction feels like a test And I failed the first and the rest [Chorus] Lot forty-seven, where logic goes to die Forklifts race like thunder under gray sky Paperwork screaming, nobody agrees Trailer 812 might be somewhere between A stack of pallets and a rumor chain And a guy who swears he signed my name I came for freight, I got delay Welcome to the yard dog ballet [Bridge] Then I found it Or it found me Half hidden behind a stack of “maybe” Seal intact but emotionally destroyed Like it’s been through three other realities deployed [Breakdown] Forklift beep Pallet scrape Someone yelling “not my gate” Radio chatter Ink stamp rage Welcome to the loading stage [Final Chorus] Lot forty-seven, where logic goes to die Still trying to figure out the reason why Every simple job becomes a maze Built from cones and fluorescent haze But I got my freight, I’m on my way Leaving chaos in my rear display Cat-nado dreams and paperwork sway Survived the yard dog ballet [Outro] Gate swings open slow Like it’s disappointed I escaped One down Seven more disasters to go