Long Grain

Long Grain pedals steel guitar
It's the sound of the swirling mist
Rolling 'cross the morning bay
And up over the cliffs
Over the camp of creek dwellers
Muttering their rusted words
Over the seaside second homers
That prance about like birds

Long Grain drift that slide

Don't give a shit about all of this
Here in the Bikers' Bar
Set in stone heavy rockers
Emptiness of air guitar
A whole wide universe reflecting
In rows of polished chrome
Hogs that jostled at the trough
Now backfiring their way home

Long Grain drift that slide
And aim, aim it at the mic again
All those songs I've learnt to like

Long Grain drift that slide

Mellow park meandering
Summoning up a song
Industrial hum unnoticed
'Til it stops or goes all wrong
Shovelling through the dirt
Striking a lode of gold
Taken us from the hard shoulder
To the middle of the road
From the hard hard shoulder
Hard shoulder, to the middle of the road

Long Grain drift that slide
And aim, aim it at the mic again
All those songs I've learnt to like

Long Grain drift that slide

Shovelling through the dirt
Striking a lode of gold
From the hard hard shoulder
To the middle of the road
Shovelling through the dirt
Striking a lode of gold