Bucket Hymn (Grit and Rust)

Wasi River Bluegrass / BridgeIncluded.ca

outlaw country, bluegrass-folk rock, garage rock

+ Show full styles

V5.5

[Intro]
One, two—
Boots in the gravel,
calloused on the chain.
If the engine keeps time,
we’ll bleed it again.

[Verse 1]
A shovel’s the only weapon I ever learned to raise,
Cold steel in the gravel at the breaking of the days.
Dad carved tracks with a dozer, I carved scars in the clay,
A shovel’s the only weapon I ever learned to raise.

There’s a growl in the bucket when the loader curls back,
There’s a curse in the hammer when the old pins crack.
There’s a choir in the culvert when the flood thaw runs,
And a snare drum screaming in a cloud of crushed stone dust.

[Pre-Chorus]
I never learned pretty,
never learned clean.
I learned pitch from a diesel
and faith from a machine.

[Chorus]
So grit it, boys, grit it—
where the Wasi roars away.
Scrape that steel on the hardpan,
let the rough ghosts sway.
No stage, no spotlight,
no polished café—
A shovel’s the only weapon
I ever learned to raise.

[Verse 2]
We had a bridge for the river and a debt for the pit,
A garage full of echoes and a lifetime in it.
Every dent was a warning, every weld burned a name,
Every tool on the bench knew the cost of the strain.

There’s a red tractor waiting with its paint worn thin,
A dozer that remembers where the bad roads begin.
A box grader scratching like a bow on a string,
And a dump truck coughing like it spits when it sings.

[Pre-Chorus]
I never learned mercy,
never learned bright.
I learned chords from the chainfalls
and rhythm from frostbite.

[Bridge]
Some folks inherit silver,
some folks inherit land.
Some get a photograph
and a ring on their hand.
I got frozen bolts,
and a riverbank grave,
and a rust-bit lesson
on what work never saves.

And if grief is a gravel pile,
I know what to do:
Start at the edge,
grind the bucket through.
Screen out the tender,
stack the stone,
haul what you can,
leave the bones alone.

[Verse 3]
Now the night comes down on Lake Nosbonsing Road,
And the shop light buzzes where the raw winds blow.
There’s a shovel by the doorway with a beat-up face,
Like it’s waiting for one last round in this place.

So I drag it through the gravel, hear that cracked steel ring,
Not a banjo, not a guitar, just a mean steel thing.
And I swear for a second, when the moon hits grey,
I can hear Dad shouting from the far side of the clay.

[Final Chorus]
So grit it, boys, grit it—
where the Wasi roars away.
Scrape that steel on the hardpan,
let the rough ghosts sway.
No stage, no spotlight,
no polished café—
A shovel’s the only weapon
I ever learned to raise.

Grit it, boys, grit it—
let the river have its say.
Let the gravel keep the backbeat
till the dark gives way.
No crown, no curtain,
no soul left to pay—
A shovel’s the only weapon
I ever learned to raise.

[Outro]
Boots in the gravel,
calloused on the chain.
If the engine keeps time,
we’ll bleed it again.

A shovel’s the only weapon
I ever learned to raise.

3078/7500

[Intro] One, two— Boots in the gravel, calloused on the chain. If the engine keeps time, we’ll bleed it again. [Verse 1] A shovel’s the only weapon I ever learned to raise, Cold steel in the gravel at the breaking of the days. Dad carved tracks with a dozer, I carved scars in the clay, A shovel’s the only weapon I ever learned to raise. There’s a growl in the bucket when the loader curls back, There’s a curse in the hammer when the old pins crack. There’s a choir in the culvert when the flood thaw runs, And a snare drum screaming in a cloud of crushed stone dust. [Pre-Chorus] I never learned pretty, never learned clean. I learned pitch from a diesel and faith from a machine. [Chorus] So grit it, boys, grit it— where the Wasi roars away. Scrape that steel on the hardpan, let the rough ghosts sway. No stage, no spotlight, no polished café— A shovel’s the only weapon I ever learned to raise. [Verse 2] We had a bridge for the river and a debt for the pit, A garage full of echoes and a lifetime in it. Every dent was a warning, every weld burned a name, Every tool on the bench knew the cost of the strain. There’s a red tractor waiting with its paint worn thin, A dozer that remembers where the bad roads begin. A box grader scratching like a bow on a string, And a dump truck coughing like it spits when it sings. [Pre-Chorus] I never learned mercy, never learned bright. I learned chords from the chainfalls and rhythm from frostbite. [Chorus] So grit it, boys, grit it— where the Wasi roars away. Scrape that steel on the hardpan, let the rough ghosts sway. No stage, no spotlight, no polished café— A shovel’s the only weapon I ever learned to raise. [Bridge] Some folks inherit silver, some folks inherit land. Some get a photograph and a ring on their hand. I got frozen bolts, and a riverbank grave, and a rust-bit lesson on what work never saves. And if grief is a gravel pile, I know what to do: Start at the edge, grind the bucket through. Screen out the tender, stack the stone, haul what you can, leave the bones alone. [Verse 3] Now the night comes down on Lake Nosbonsing Road, And the shop light buzzes where the raw winds blow. There’s a shovel by the doorway with a beat-up face, Like it’s waiting for one last round in this place. So I drag it through the gravel, hear that cracked steel ring, Not a banjo, not a guitar, just a mean steel thing. And I swear for a second, when the moon hits grey, I can hear Dad shouting from the far side of the clay. [Final Chorus] So grit it, boys, grit it— where the Wasi roars away. Scrape that steel on the hardpan, let the rough ghosts sway. No stage, no spotlight, no polished café— A shovel’s the only weapon I ever learned to raise. Grit it, boys, grit it— let the river have its say. Let the gravel keep the backbeat till the dark gives way. No crown, no curtain, no soul left to pay— A shovel’s the only weapon I ever learned to raise. [Outro] Boots in the gravel, calloused on the chain. If the engine keeps time, we’ll bleed it again. A shovel’s the only weapon I ever learned to raise.

0/500