Golden arm

(Spoken)
Damn it’s been an unbelievable journey, it’s been a long damn journey, And I’m tired.

Lyrics  (harmonica talk back)
Sixteen years old, barely more than a boy,
First branch and bell hole, stomach in a knot.
Puked out the side of my truck, but the torch was my voice,
Eight years old already welding, I was born for the spot.
They called me golden arm, slapping dimes,
Slickest and quickest, wasting no time.
When the stick ran dry I picked up that TIG Torch!
Self-taught in the dark, but once I got it right… shit, I was gone.
Thirty-two years deep, I burned that flame out,
Shutdowns, seven days straight, twelve hours, no doubt.
6G two-inch monster in a restricted box,
Convection pipe tests, I ran that clock.
Watched brothers come and go, some never made it home,
Wore out my body just to feed my own.
Now the calluses stay, but the helmet comes off,
Stepping into inspection, still walking tall.
(Harmonica bass guitar solo)
Verse 3 (new):
From the heat of the rig to the cool of the shade,
Blue hard hat on, clipboard in my hand.
Eyes on the bead, checking every pass,
Still got that fire, just reading it now, not making it last.
Now the fire’s still burning… but different kind of heat.
No more sparks flying, no more smoke in my face.
I’m still in the game… just changed my seat.
From the welder who built it… to the man who keeps it straight.
Laying these rods down, but I ain’t dead yet,
Just trading my torch for another kind of tool…
C.W.I , still the same damn guy.
(Harmonica outtro long rolling deep bass)

Gritty outlaw country rap, deep bumpy bass, mid-tempo beat, raw & honest gulf coast Cowboy harmonica talk back