“Not Gettin’ Off Till 10PM”
(Country Grit. Long days. Short tempers. Overtime dreams.)
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[Verse 1]
Clock hits six, crew’s draggin’ in slow,
Dillon’s chuggin’ coffee like it’s Texaco.
Joe’s got the dolly, Paul’s still asleep,
Brandon’s eatin’ gas station snacks knee-deep.
Kurt’s out front with that same ol’ smile,
Sayin’ “Boys, this one’s easy — be done in a while.”
But we pull up to the job and the truth sets in:
A full-pack monster with a baby grand piano and a grin.
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[Chorus]
We ain’t gettin’ off till 10PM,
Movin’ grandma’s hutch again and again.
Pads all ripped, backs all tight,
Rollin’ that fridge through the rain at night.
Got cold food sittin’ in the truck’s front seat,
While we stack these boxes in defeat.
We don’t love it, but we sure like the pay—
So we’ll grind it out till the end of the day.
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[Verse 2]
Kurt’s back home by noon, claimin’ he’s “on calls,”
While we’re pushin’ dressers up three flights tall.
Paul’s throwin’ straps, Joe’s leadin’ fast,
Dillon’s already snappin’ at Brandon’s ass.
Customer talkin’ ‘bout “fragile needs care,”
While we’re haulin’ a safe up a spiral stair.
Sun’s goin’ down, bodies gone numb,
But we still got a full damn truck to run.
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[Chorus]
We ain’t gettin’ off till 10PM,
Boxin’ our rage with a pad and pen.
Dreamin’ of chairs, A/C, and sleep,
But right now we’re knee-deep in junk so steep.
That OT glows like a neon sign,
A silver dollar for this busted spine.
Call it hell or just hard work men—
But we ain’t gettin’ off till 10 again.
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[Bridge – Spoken, Joe muttering to himself]
Man, Kurt really said it was “light”…
Bro, this is three trucks and a grand piano with no elevator.
He’s prolly at home eatin’ salmon.
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[Verse 3]
Brandon’s limpin’, Paul’s gone red,
Joe’s yellin’ “One more trip then bed!”
Dillon’s on the ramp with a thousand-yard stare,
Sayin’ “I swear this couch just disappeared midair.”
We laugh it off, ’cause what else can you do?
Crack jokes and sweat with your worn-out crew.
We might cuss, we might groan, but we finish the job—
Even when Kurt’s on the couch eatin’ corn on the cob.
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[Final Chorus – All Four, exhausted but proud]
We ain’t gettin’ off till 10PM,
But we ain’t ever quittin’ — not us, not them.
Joe leads hard, Dillon swings mean,
Brandon packs fast, Paul keeps it clean.
We’re sore and fried, but we’ll do it all week,
For that big fat OT when we hit our peak.
So raise a boot, crack a grin—
We the crew that grinds till 10PM.
KennyT69
