Sep 20
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com
A Road Crew Singing “Red, Red Wine”
On a road cratered with holes and emptied dreams
A road crew of only two riding with the fill
In the bed of a county pickup truck
Patching potholes in the late summer heat
Singing “Red, Red Wine” over and over
“Red, Red, Wine”
One takes off his sweat-soaked striped shirt
A voice from the cab tells him to put it back on
They stop and take shovels and out they leap
To shovel with the shovels fill into holes
“Red, Red Wine”
They sing those three words over and over
The only words of that song they know
“Red, Red Wine.”
On a road cratered with holes and emptied dreams
Mhall46184@aol.com
A Road Crew Singing “Red, Red Wine”
On a road cratered with holes and emptied dreams
A road crew of only two riding with the fill
In the bed of a county pickup truck
Patching potholes in the late summer heat
Singing “Red, Red Wine” over and over
“Red, Red, Wine”
One takes off his sweat-soaked striped shirt
A voice from the cab tells him to put it back on
They stop and take shovels and out they leap
To shovel with the shovels fill into holes
“Red, Red Wine”
They sing those three words over and over
The only words of that song they know
“Red, Red Wine.”
On a road cratered with holes and emptied dreams
Red Red Wine, Road Crew
