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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.
