[Intro]
Just sitting here, screen glow upon my face
Thinking 'bout the treasures hiding all this place
A dusty garage, a treasure trove so vast
Maybe American pickers, they could have a blast
[Verse 1]
Old bikes lined up like soldiers in a row
Chain rusted tight but still ready to go
Leather seats, shiny chrome, memories in the rust
Got vintage signs, and trinkets full of history and dust
[Pre-Chorus]
Waiting for the moment when they walk through the door
Could be the find that they’ve been dreaming for
Every nook and cranny filled with stories untold
My junk could be their gold, if the price is right and bold
[Chorus]
Hey, I got stuff around the house, waiting on a call
American pickers, gonna see if you want it all
Mike would love to see the bicycles I keep in the shed
Imagine the stories that could get spun from all the things I’ve hoarded
[Verse 2]
Vintage radios, old tricycles with squeaky wheels
A collection of memories behind each little peel
Every item’s got a tale, waiting to be aired
Might just be the moment when my junk’s declared rare
[Pre-Chorus]
Waiting for the moment when they walk through the door
Could be the find that they’ve been dreaming for
Every nook and cranny filled with stories untold
My junk could be their gold, if the price is right and bold
[Chorus]
Hey, I got stuff around the house, waiting on a call
American pickers, gonna see if you want it all
Mike would love to see the bicycles I keep in the shed
Imagine the stories that could get spun from all the things I’ve hoarded
[Bridge]
Lights flicker on the dusty shelves
Each thing’s a piece of my own story itself
Dreaming of the day they come to see
What treasures lie beneath for all to see
[Outro]
So here I sit, with a hopeful eye
Waiting for the pickers to pass me by
Could be the start of something new
Selling off the past, for a little bit of blue
