Floating Action - Rincon lyrics

Well, it's the strangling of the scene The most peculiar of design The rods and cones just crossed the line The one that makes the engine run But as the sun goes down at Rincon It makes the strangest of design It's the scrambling of the signal That stops the tune of Earnest Ranglin I've reached out to every crook I've seen The lonely life of the wrangler appears to shine Well, it's the granite of your fingers That drinks me underneath the table It's the shuffling of the cards That keeps me running half the time