THE LOAD-OUT - Jackson Browne & Bryan Garofalo

    Now the seats are all empty
    Let the roadies take the stage
    Pack it up and tear it down
    They're the first to come and last to leave
    Working for that minimum wage
    They'll set it up in another town
    Tonight the people were so fine
    They waited there in line
    And when they got up on their feet they made the show
    And that was sweet--
    But I can hear the sound
    Of slamming doors and folding chairs
    And that's a sound they'll never know

    Now roll them cases out and lift them amps
    Haul them trusses down and get'em up them ramps
    'Cause when it comes to moving me
    You guys are the champs
    But when that last guitar's been packed away
    You know that I still want to play
    So just make sure you got it all set to go
    Before you come for my piano

    But the band's on the bus
    And they're waiting to go
    We've got to drive all night and do a show in Chicago
    or Detroit, I don't know
    We do so many shows in a row
    And these towns all look the same
    We just pass the time in our hotel rooms
    And wander 'round backstage
    Till those lights come up and we hear that crowd
    And we remember why we came

    Now we got country and western on the bus
    R and B, we got disco in eight tracks and cassettes in stereo
    We've got rural scenes & magazines
    We've got truckers on the CB
    We've got Richard Pryor on the video
    We got time to think of the ones we love
    While the miles roll away
    But the only time that seems too short
    Is the time that we get to play

    People you've got the power over what we do
    You can sit there and wait
    Or you can pull us through
    Come along, sing the song
    You know you can't go wrong
    'Cause when that morning sun comes beating down
    You're going to wake up in your town
    But we'll be scheduled to appear
    A thousand miles away from here



    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words