almost real. - Wet Windows Quarter Past Eight

Keep the bucket full and the windows bright; send her down the sidewalk in the morning light.
One day, one day I'll find the words to say hello.
Till then, I'll polish up the morning, watch it go.
Afternoon comes slow, and the shift gets long.
Customers pull in with their trucks all dirty; I hum a tune I think she'd like to sing along.
Wipe the chrome until the chrome looks pretty; the radio plays something sweet and slow.