By: Horst Schneider
March 1, 2016
The monitor lites they show amber and red
So I dress for the job that I dread
Some crummy torn jeans and a pair of old shoes.
I have the dump station blues.
It’s a sunny and balmy Arizona kind of day
But I cannot rest or go outside and play
Instead I must pack and stow what is loose.
I have the dump station blues.
Arriving too soon on the Mesa I quickly divine
That again I will be seventh in line
Giving me time to dump some bags of refuse.
I have the dump station blues.
I thought I fastened the hose to its lashes
But something goes “phuit”, then it splashes
Because the connections were loose.
I have the dump station blues.
Clean water should gently flow from the spout
Instead a huge geyser comes gushing about
Soaking my face and my pants and my shoes.
I have the dump station blues.
I need to go home and rest for a spell
Forgetting the horrors of the dump station hell
But sleep will not come, oh heck, what’s the use.
I have the dump station blues.