Sky Diner

'Sky Diner' by Tobin Hocking Album cover by Nicholas Harris-Whittle Lyrics: Waving away the waiter while I’m feeling notorious In a little altercation and I came out victorious I’m paying the price of my life, it’s so glorious A meddling rebel I need a medal, meritorious Aim your sights, you’re not bound to hit, man I’m trained for these fights, a bounty hunting hitman I’m no small fry, don’t need to act standoffish Safety stays static til the last stand-off it’s The confidently dominant and prominent pro The blood-hound to hound em down and make the blood flow The scoundrel’s in town, the dog with the coarse coat So you best lay low, cause I'm the best in show Windows of white, clouds down of orange Staring at the floor, I ignore the door hinge Looking through the smoke, the steam, the bleak wannabes It’s another bloke who needs some chic qualities Strikes me like the type I woulda ripped off Maybe that missing delivery that got shipped off Probably still pissed off so he made a list of Possible causes for the lost box of his stuff I’m telling you it wasn’t me who did it I’m guessing that he’s gonna want me to admit it I just set the fuse, it wasn’t me who lit it I like revenues, so the take, we split it I survey the scene of the grimy diner Find antipodal sights like ice and fire A group of grim folk and cork-popping porters Then a few warriors, goons following orders Scoping out the main groups, finishing my grape juice Men with guns in grey suits, ritzing with their suede boots Parle prowess may prove fruitless against trained dudes Eyeing the escape routes, I’m about to break loose Servers swerve, seeing reams of red Ready to get fed eggs, bacon and lead They scramble to poach my yolk, sunny side up But it ain’t over easy, their luck’s fried up Caught hot, got shot, sought the sundering glock Locking on, spot a lot laying on the walk Knock knock o’ clock, you mock, already caught Clocking locks, you flock, gawk, somebody got shot I go a stone’s throw though I gotta lay low I can’t go blow for blow for every foe I'm no jetset, but my jet’s prepped to go I gotta get set and ready this stand’s ‘bout to blow Focus on the road as my flight draws near Just me and my wits, and my grit, and my gear Times are going alright, finally getting out of here Glide through starlight, leaving the atmosphere Can’t rest, you’re bested, I got finesse in excess Fest expressed in blessed mess and unrest Lest I digress, I’m the best, manifest less Decompressed lessening for depressed requests The shaking of the ship raises a few concerns Then I see his face, the bastard never learns I open my mouth, to dampen his concerns Then a shot in the gut, damn it burns Today I lay alive saved by your respect One bullet in my chamber, time to resurrect For my last wish, I ask this, a late duel With a fast twitch, I act quick, my fate cruel Readily we whip our pistols pointing like fangs I steady my aim as pain like a spike pangs Disdain in my brain as my death bells rang And before I even know it… bang