Bore The Flame

Verse

Twenty-four long years in that Phoenix heat,

Racking bread pans, sweat pouring down my face.

Monorail to proof box, humidity rising steep,

The bread climbs up while I hold my place.

Verse

Load the ovens hot, misery in the air,

Bread mitts slipping off with a searing sting.

Sandwich loaves covered, baking with care,

Smell of the oven, no joy it can bring.

Chorus

Sunbeam men, working through the pain,

Burned and beaten, earning every dime.

In that bakery hell, we bore the flame,

For family and home, every single time.

Verse

Countless burns, harsh as the afternoon sun,

Peeling off lids down the metal chute.

De-lidder hums till the wrapping's done,

Despised the role, but ain't that the truth.

Chorus

Sunbeam men, working through the pain,

Burned and beaten, earning every dime.

In that bakery hell, we bore the flame,

For family and home, every single time.

Bridge

Now I'm retired, but memories remain,

Missing the men who shared that dusty lane.

A battlefield of bread, sweat, and flame,

Brotherhood forged in working men's name.

Chorus

Sunbeam men, working through the pain,

Burned and beaten, earning every dime.

In that bakery hell, we bore the flame,

For family and home, every single time.