Punch In With a Pitchfork

[Intro]  
Yeah  
Angel on my back, steel toes in the mud  
Demon in my veins sayin’, “Run it ‘til it run”  

[Hook]  
Clocked in on empty, devil doing overtime  
Punch in with a pitchfork, halos on the powerline  
Paper crowns barking from an air‑conditioned throne  
But I’m rusted to this ratchet and this busted work phone  Angel whisper, “Hold on, you got babies back at home”  
Demon grinning, “Walk off, let it all burn alone”  
Name tag like a chain, I’m a number, not a name  
Got a Bible in the sleeper, got a furnace in my brain  

[Verse 1]  
Wake up in the man camp, dust on my lungs  
Dreamt I heard my little girl laugh, then the alarm rung  
Coffee in a Styrofoam, diesel in my nose  
Forty minutes down this lease road, nobody else knows  Pumpjacks look like gallows in the West Texas dawn  
Skeletons of metal still noddin’ when I’m gone  
Supervisor on the radio, talkin’ like a king  
But his crown made of paper and his throne’s just a screen  He say, “We a family,” while I’m missing every game  
He don’t see my boy’s jersey, he just see my last name  
Every call from the office feel like thunder in my chest  
They don’t see the black rings carved around my rest  I’m a roughneck in the red dirt, cross on my dash  
Prayin’ rent clear before the credit cards crash  
Got my boots on the ladder, got my head in the fog  
Feel like Hell’s HR wrote me into this job  

[Hook]  
Clocked in on empty, devil doing overtime  
Punch in with a pitchfork, halos on the powerline  
Paper crowns barking from an air‑conditioned throne  
But I’m rusted to this ratchet and this busted work phone  Angel whisper, “Hold on, you got babies back at home”  
Demon grinning, “Walk off, let it all burn alone”  
Name tag like a chain, I’m a number, not a name  
Got a Bible in the sleeper, got a furnace in my brain  

[Verse 2]  
They don’t see the shower cry, water hide the war  
They just see the day rate, not the body on the floor  
They don’t hear my wife say, “You okay?” through the static  
I just say, “I’m fine,” then go wrestle with the panic  Turnaround got me twisted, two weeks in this pit  
One week with my angels, then I’m back in Devil’s shift  
Got a picture on my lock screen, Moe and both the kids  
Only reason that I ain’t done somethin’ that I can’t fix  Boss say, “Pick it up, we behind on that run”  
While I’m out here tryna not put a barrel to my tongue  
I’m a saint on the schedule, I’m a sinner in my head  
If I ever walk away, it’s ‘cause this lease already bled  Truck cab like a chapel when I’m talkin’ to the sky  
Ask God, “If I quit this, we gon’ starve or we survive?”  
He don’t answer in a voice, just in faces that I see  
Little handprints on my window when they wave goodbye to me  

[Hook]  
Clocked in on empty, devil doing overtime  
Punch in with a pitchfork, halos on the powerline  
Paper crowns barking from an air‑conditioned throne  
Angel whisper, “Hold on, you got babies back at home”  
Demon grinning, “Walk off, let it all burn alone”

rap, Hybrid metal-trap with male vocals, detuned synth riffs and chuggy guitars in the verses over aggressive 808-sub