Verse 1

Before the dawn the warehouse doors unroll,

Cold air slips through the loading bay.

I turn the key; the motor takes its breath,

And pallets wait to be carried away.

Chorus

Easy now, through the painted lines,

Lift the weight and keep it steady.

This hard work has a quiet grace;

One careful turn, and we are ready.

Verse 2

The battery hums beneath my gloved hands,

A wooden crate rides high and slow.

I watch the corners, judge the narrow aisle,

Then set it down where it must go.

Chorus

Easy now, through the painted lines,