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Two days until The Allfather Awakens drops and I've been counting hours like rounds in a magazine. Locked the workshop early tonight because some things deserve a proper celebration and my crew doesn't get to see this side of it. Come see how I celebrate.
The new single finally has a name and a date, and I marked it the Scrappers' way — door triple-locked, lamp still burning, everything else on the floor. Tell me you'd have brought the rag.
Found a half-full bottle of something floral in a dead boutique off the supply route and nobody on my crew can ever know I'm lying here breathing it in like it still matters. Tell me you'd get why it does.
Supply run went clean for once — no patrols, no bad intel, just me and two crates of copper wire coming back through the rail yard. Got back sweating through everything and the jacket's the first thing to go. Tell me you'd be waiting at the door.
Shortwave confirms it — the loudest band of the old world is putting out one final record and then they're gone for good. I had to take the news lying down. Tell me you'd be through that door.
Seven days until Suffer Divine drops and the lead single already has me wound tighter than a blown head gasket. Door's triple-locked, crew thinks I'm out on fuel runs — this is what the leader of the Scrappers does instead. Tell me you'd knock anyway.
Shortwave just coughed up the winter tour route and Chicago's on it — the loudest band on earth is playing the city that raised me, and I've already marked the spot in grease pencil. Three years since this town heard anything worth that kind of noise. Tell me you'd be standing in that crowd with me.
Crew won't be up for hours, so the shop's mine and the coffee's burnt like always. Hamburg's tearing up the shortwave and I'm not sharing this bench with anyone — tell me you'd be the exception.
Stockholm set just punched through the shortwave — the band's playing the city my father's people came from, and I'm catching it half-dressed in my own corner of the ruins. Some songs you don't salute standing at attention. Tell me you'd be leaning on that locker beside me.
Live feed out of the tour put a brand new Swedish band in my ears tonight and now the whole shop's rattling with it. Got so hot under that work lamp the coveralls lost the fight. Tell me you'd hand me the rag.
Pulled a dead hard drive apart tonight and the most classified thing I own turned out to be a cartoon about ponies. The crew thinks the leader of the Scrappers runs on steel and burnt coffee — this stays between us. Tell me you'd keep my secret.