Thankful Hank and the Guzzard crank
The handles of a great machine.

It works with the force of a strung out horse;
They’re balding from the heat of the thing.

An orphan in pearls brought them into the world,
And since then they’ve been up on that hill.

They heave and sway as they crank away
For dimes at a time lost in their minds...

The fear-abiding citizens found it wild and absurd,
So they gathered their case against old Hank and the Guzzard:

“These men and their machine are like a wooden spleen,
And they keep us up all night with their banging and their clanging.”

The mob heaved and swayed and the scheme was laid.
So they marched up the hill and moved in for the kill...

When they got home to their beds there claim this plague of dread
That something was wrong, but it could wait till the dawn.

But the morning never came; the sun was delayed...
Forever the dark sky and no one knew why -

Thankful Hank and the Guzzard crank
The handles of a great machine.


Lyrics submitted by Heat

Thankful Hank & the Guzzard song meanings
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