Wyoming Three AM
Kibi10 次播放
Tempo: 128 BPM, major key bright mid-country groove, steady rolling gravel-road backbeat. Core instrumentation: greasy weeping slide electric guitar, bright rolling banjo licks, warm dry acoustic guitar strums, solid warm electric bass, sharp backbeat snap drums, understated mandolin fills in place of the reference fiddle for bright, rustic texture. Emotion: warm, nostalgic, quiet gratitude, lived-in softness without over-sentimentality, delivered by a husky Southern-twang male storyteller vocal. Narrative follows a roughneck oil field worker driving home at golden hour after a seven-day rig shift, holding a crumpled handwritten note from his 8-year-old daughter in his dash cupholder, counting down the 17 miles to his small frame house, the smell of pecan pie drifting off porch screens already meeting him half a mile out. Match the raw, grounded storytelling tone of Chris Stapleton, Tyler Childers, Sturgill Simpson.
歌词
[Intro] [Verse] Dust on the dash of this GMC Seven days of iron is enough for me The sky’s turning purple over fields of grain Washing away all the grease and the pain I’m trading the rig for a quiet street And the rhythm of the tires on the hot concrete [Pre-Chorus] Look at that paper in the cup tray Helped me get through every long day Crayon marks and a crooked little smile Shortening up every single mile [Chorus] Seventeen miles to the frame house door I ain’t a roughneck or a driller no more Just a man coming home to a soft-lit room Out of the shadows and the diesel gloom Yeah, I’m almost there With a little bit of luck and a silent prayer [Post-Chorus] Counting them down Passing the edge of the town Almost there Almost there [Verse] Half a mile out and the air starts to change Sweet smell of syrup, something rich and strange Mama’s got the oven humming low and sweet Pecan pie waiting for a tired man to eat The screen door is creaking in the golden haze Ending the longest of the seven days [Chorus] Seventeen miles to the frame house door I ain’t a roughneck or a driller no more Just a man coming home to a soft-lit room Out of the shadows and the diesel gloom Yeah, I’m almost there With a little bit of luck and a silent prayer [Bridge] The world is loud and the work is hard But peace is waiting in a fenceless yard I don’t need the silver or the mountain of gold Just a hand to reach for and a hand to hold My daughter is waiting by the window pane Calling my name through the summer rain [Solo] [Verse] Brakes are squealing as I hit the turn Watching the last of the sunset burn I smooth out the note and I fold it small The greatest treasure of them all I’m stepping out slow with a heavy tread Thinking ‘bout the words that my baby said [Chorus] Seventeen miles to the frame house door I ain’t a roughneck or a driller no more Just a man coming home to a soft-lit room Out of the shadows and the diesel gloom Yeah, I’m almost there With a little bit of luck and a silent prayer [Post-Chorus] Counting them down Passing the edge of the town Almost there Almost there [Outro]
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