Untitled

Steel boots clang on the rig floor, sparks fly in the night,

Torch in my hand, I’m the king of the pipeline fight.

Gulf Coast heat waves, sweat drips like rain,

Every joint I weld’s got a story to claim.

Cowboy deep in the grind, fast beat in my veins,

Shutdowns come and go, but the rhythm remains.

Iron bars sing like a choir on fire,

Melting the metal, lifting it higher.

Iron sparks and pipeline bars,

Lighting up the sky like fallen stars.

From the bayou down to the town,

We keep the world turning, never slowing down.

Midnight shifts, the rigs don’t sleep,

Echoes of hammers in the rhythm we keep.

Blue flame cuts through the rust and the grime,

Every weld’s a verse in this industrial rhyme.

Deep bass hums like a freight train rollin’,

Pumping crude while the rigs keep tollin’.

From Corpus to Houston, the circuit’s tight,

Welding the seams till the break of light.

Iron sparks and pipeline bars,

Lighting up the sky like fallen stars.

From the bayou down to the town,

We keep the world turning, never slowing down.

Iron sparks and pipeline bars,

Lighting up the sky like fallen stars.

From the bayou down to the town,

We keep the world turning, never slowing down.