Body Shop Blues

Yeah. Every dent tell a story, every coat got a past.

We don't clock out, we grind out. Body shop blue. Long days,

paint haze, still we grinding through the pain. Customers complaining like we don't feel

the same. Pull up to the booth, I pray this coat don't fade.

We fixing bodies daily, but nobody fix our pain. Yeah.

Pain, we grind, it ain't easy. No mixing bundle in the back,

got dust on his jeans. Trying to line that fender straight, trying to chase

that dream. Oscar on the frame rack, big metal, straight,