Cans

Lyrics

The drop-forge hammers drown out all the grace
You grab the nearest object in the place
I haven't got a sonnet in my head
I watch the steel conveyor belt instead
She's standing by the pallet, clipboard in her hand
Line four, nineteen forty-two, shifting the demand
I need a way to tell the boys exactly what I see
Without a single word that could offend the company

So we call them cans now
Keep it to the tin, keep it on the line
No more silver apples, no more winding vine
Just two standard units, stamped and painted blue
When the room is crowded, industrial will do
You give your pal a nudge, you don't even blink
It's the heaviest word you didn't have to think

We rationed out the sugar and the brass
And let the older, cleverer phrases pass
I see her punch her ticket at the gate
I need a sturdy noun to hold the weight
The mind just stalls and grabs a hollow noun
Before the brain can even weigh it down
She's pouring out the coffee, she's standing right right there
So we talk about the factory, to spare the morning air

And we call them cans now
Keep it to the tin, keep it on the line
No more silver apples, no more winding vine
Just two standard units, stamped and painted blue
When the room is crowded, industrial will do
You give your pal a nudge, you don't even blink
It's the heaviest word you didn't have to think

Centuries of lace and velvet trim
Reduced to what we're packing rations in
It isn't that we're braver than before
We're just a little lazier on the floor
We threw away the orchard for the shape
A mass-produced container for escape

Just stacking the tin
Row after row
Nothing to blush at
Nothing to know
The whistle blows, she turns around and smiles
At a thousand identical miles