Crane Ride

[leafsailors ghost]

It was back in seventy nine ,me and Clyde Paul
was a real friend of mine ,we was working hard
good money making jobs with them hard working boys and all
on down south ,ratting around old mister Benders ship yard

The hours were long,the work was hard
a sixteen hour gig, we worked a double shift
we worked that old grave yard
I built the scaffold Clyde did the lift

Seven days a week feeling mighty big
building that scaffolding up high all around
working on a shut down oil drilling rig
you know old Mobile is a hard kind of town


We strung out our lines ,checked out our tools
the old foreman always had to say
"you are killing me boys,I hired pure fools
then went back to sleep ,paid his old ass , no mind any way

The sun settled down setting orange fire to the shacks
long slanting beams of fiery light
slipping long and low ,glinting off the railroad tracks
calling in the the ghosts of shipyards rumbling night

Mama was home putting the kids to bed
I was strapping on my safety harness ,dangers little kiss
for a moment we are bathed in red
walking those scaffold boards in you can't afford to miss

For three long summer months we done this routine
got two sundays home ,June and July come and gone
summers a sweltering now ,got stormy and mean
an August from the belly of hell , like gang busters,was coming on

The nights were hot and steamy as only southern nights can be
old man bender was so hard and so tight
gave us just enough lights so we could barely see
ah but he always wanted it done and done just right


One night in that August now ,it seems like a dream some how
my old out law pal ,snuck us in a bottle of captain Morgans rum
we was pretty good about it ,we were just a sipping a little right now
a few more little sips, a smile and a hand shake,the night has begun

The oil rig was moored in that old deep river
looking down into that haunted canyon between the dock and ship
when the tide was running strong ,it was never a forgiver
you could not afford to fall, the end was as close as one simple trip

The whirl pools sing their growly song
fall forty feet then under it will pull you down
down in that black river mud ,most likely you never be found
in the middle of the night ,a pleasant place to hang around

My pal run the lifting crane old twenty ton rattle trap
he rides me up the ship side in the rusty old man lift basket
getting warmed up the old hard track would clutch grab and slap
sometimes felt like getting slammed right into my casket


Building clinging forty foot high walk ways
out of sixteen foot two by twelve pine scaffold planks
doing it alone for fun , as the old man says
the harness hooked on air, give God my many thanks

Sliding and bouncing them out ,one bracket to another
side by side planks , jumping all the gaps
those old boards got mighty heavy brother
watch out for the stumble bum ,he sets some nasty traps

I got me an idea ,I said hay Clyde
how about a rocked ride, he was laughing with his eyes
cause he knew me ,it's no surprise
drink another sip or two , a toast for the incoming tide

Look I said back this thing way back
it won't take long ,into open yard three
that yard was quiet no work going on
no body paid no attention ,they just let us be

I'll get in the basket ,snap myself in tight
take another sip then you lift me up real high
spin this thing around, really let her rip
let the cable out, then i'll surely fly

Got in the basket , snapped up good and tight
took another sip went up as high as could go
up eighty feet the air was cool the stars were bright
Oh what a view don't you know

Then slowly at first , ,he began to spin
spending well, every sip of rum, I began to sing
looking at the heavens ,thinking about my kin
going so fast now my ears begun to ring

He let her spin around ,letting cable out
I was a commet now ,a shooting star
like super man, laugh and shout
flying almost horizontal ,flinging round about

Then the real fun began
take that last sip you know
he worked that crane, a master hand
he did his best now, oh what a show

Swooping down flying just above the ground
like a bomber on a run
then the sweetest reverse, a turn around
then up and away into the sky,ah what fun

You can dream about that flight
yes I lived another day
to tell you about that night
take another sip and then collect my pay

[beekaay]

Perfect example of redneck engineering. I'm still a little dizzy from the ride!