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**NICE CRUNCH**
*by Silvio Vinci*
Last bus gone and the street still warm,
Your old red coat hanging over my arm.
Behind that door, beneath our feet,
Somebody’s bending a straight-line beat.
Nice crunch — let it bite,
Put a little gravel in the velvet night.
Nice crunch — let it roll,
A little dirt, a lot of soul.
The jukebox coughs and the ceiling shakes,
You move like someone who loves mistakes.
You leave your shoes by a broken chair
And draw slow circles in the smoky air.
Nice crunch — let it bite,
Put a little gravel in the velvet night.
Nice crunch — let it roll,
A little dirt, a lot of soul.
Nobody asks what you do all day.
Nobody cares what you couldn’t say.
You lean in close as the lights turn blue:
“Let it get a little rough on you.”
Nice crunch — let it bite,
Put a little gravel in the velvet night.
Nice crunch — let it roll,
A little dirt, a lot of soul.
Nice crunch…
Let it roll.
A little dirt…
A lot of soul.
