My father worked the graveyard shift while we were warm in bed. Tied our skates for frozen rinks before the day began. It all seemed so normal to me, then - just kids, no frame of reference.
So play the man, not the puck. They've got the moves, you've got the guts. Don't let me see you giving up.
With no sleep, just a smoke and a coffee cup. I won't give this up, 'til you give up.
Counting down the twelves, the overtime, the night shift lullabies. 'Til I worked nights of my own, I had no way to know. Never been one to waste breath. Just set your jaw and never rest.
I'm older now than you were then.
Getting out of Estevan.
from oil sands
released August 4, 2016
all rights reserved