Wind song grazes chimes
Of the ranch style homes
My tires graze the gravel
Out by the lake shore
Down at the loading bay
Not my first rodeo
I’m heading out at dawn to the eastern seaboard
My baby said don’t you go
But it’s just a little bit of time 'til a hot night in Waco
Bodega alleyways, grocery tackle roads
Driving through small towns
Where trinkets are sold
Now passing through a skyline
With the sunlight below
I’ll call you when you wake up
Just to let you know
My baby said don’t you go
But it’s just a little bit of time 'til a hot night in Waco
How’s my driving? Call 1-800-fuck yourself
Six more nights 'til a hot night in Waco
The sleeper cab is filling up with trash
Five more nights 'til a hot night in Waco
How’s my driving? Call 1-800-fuck yourself
Four more nights 'til a hot night in Waco
The sleeper cab is fucking up my back
Three more nights 'til a hot night in Waco
My baby said don’t you go
But it’s just a little bit of time 'til one hot night in waco
Two more nights 'til a hot night in Waco
One more night 'til a hot night in Waco
Woozy, rollicking indie rock that's thick and humid, searching vocals set against pealing guitars. Also available on cassette. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 22, 2016
Winter McQuinn mixes soft rock and psychedelic folk for a sound reminiscent of classic pop purveyors like Cut Worms and the Lemon Twigs. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 16, 2024