The truck’s a hellbeast with a steel mouth
That swallows all the crap you toss.
The beast’s guts groan and growl.
It spews black smoke from its ass.
A machine that moves, eats, and shits,
What else could it be but alive?

I asked the driver, “You need help?”
He threw me a pair of gloves and said, “Go for it.”

I look like death, but I’m young, strong enough.
I can lift heavy, leaking bags,
And I’m not scared of shit, piss, or puke.
The loader has a bad knee,
And the driver’s a sick old drunk.
They need a body to keep the route going,
And I’m the only one dumb enough
To try.

We sped through the city, two hours before dawn,
Stopping in alleys and behind stores.
I rode in the truck’s warm cab,
Listening to the driver and the loader talk
About money they needed, bitches they’d had,
And all the reasons they hated their jobs.

When we reached the landfill, I stood by
As the sun rose over a mountain of filth.
The loader pulled a lever, the truck’s back lifted,
And a flood of trash poured out:
A stinking wave of rot, rust, and ruin.
It looked like a giant metal beast
Puking its guts onto a steaming shitpile,
Then roaring with its hydraulic arms.

I’m a runner, a lifter, a feeder, a cleaner.
My guitar rides behind the seat.
I jump in and out of the truck’s jaws,
And drag the trash into its throat.
It makes me sweat, stink, and bleed.
The crew calls me “new kid,” “dumbass,”
But they don’t give a fuck about me,
And I don’t give a fuck back.

There’s nothing like the smell
Of trash in the morning:
Fruit gone soft, meat gone green,
Diapers full of shit.

I’ve slept in worse places than a truck.
I’ve touched worse things than trash.
I’ve been hurt by worse things than a compactor.
I don’t complain. I don’t talk back.
I just keep working, keep feeding the beast,
And it keeps me alive.

I’m a garbage man, a trash collector,
A scavenger of the city’s waste.
I ride on the back step, clinging to the rails,
Feeling the wind and the rain on my face,
Seeing the streets before they wake,
Smelling the world in its rawest state.
I don’t care what you call me,
As long as you pay me.
I don’t care what you think of me,
As long as you leave me alone.

A coworker got me a lead on a filthy room,
And told me what bars to hit at night.
The room’s walls are peeling, the toilet’s clogged,
But the door locks from the inside.

I’m a tough guy in an ugly neighborhood.
The worst thing that could happen already has.
What more can the world do to me
Than what I’ve already done to myself.

I see people in their homes,
Asleep or awake, happy or sad.
I see dogs and cats,
Rats and birds,
That live on the margins of the world.
They don’t judge me, they don’t fear me.
They just do what they gotta do
To survive.