This is hardly the most serious song I've written, and I'm giving it a lot of credit to even lump it in with "songwriting." But it is, at least, a solid draft of a fun bar-band song. It was intended to be a little bit of Stax grease with an Elvis Costello-ish snarl to it; one can easily see how it might have started there, but where it ended up was quite a ways down the road.
But here's the fun part: when the title popped in my head, I at first imagined that it might be a fun road song, and naturally it needed to be about coming home. And then I aimed it in the direction of "baby, I'm coming home - wait up for me." And then, when I realized what a bit of fiction that was for this particular wanderer and his early-rising gal, I thought about what was often my motivation for hurrying home after a night on the road.
Burke St. Pizza. Yep. That's it. I can't tell you how many nights my reward for road-warrior-ing is a slice of Burke St. in front of some late-night reruns on the tube. But here's the catch: Burke St. closes and LOCKS their doors at 3am sharp. So, if you're loading the last amp in the car at 2am somewhere in the general vicinity of the Triad, sometimes you gotta hustle. And that, truly is what I'm singing about, here.
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