A musician friend with late-night hours once lamented the early morning call of the gas delivery man in his neighborhood. I understood how my friend felt, but I thought the gas man might have a lament of his own.

Our gas man, Juan, waits to come by our house until after the sun rises.

The Gas Man Blues

(The Gas Man Cometh)

By Dianne Romain

I search the callejones

Before the light of day.

I search the callejones

Before the light of day.

I sing. I cry. I wonder.

Will I ever find my way?

I sing. I cry. I wonder.

While you’re lying in the hay.

I sing. I cry. I wonder.

While you’re lying in the hay.

It’s lonely in the alley.

Will you answer me today?

It’s lonely in the alley.

It’s dark and cold as stone.

It’s lonely in the alley.

It’s dark and cold as stone.

I heft a hundred kilos.

Would you prefer I use the phone?

I heft a hundred kilos.*

I climb a hundred stairs.**

I heft a hundred kilos.

I climb a hundred stairs.

I call out “Gas Butano.”

Is there anyone that cares?

I call out “Gas Butano.”

My voice sounds hoarse, they say.

I call out “Gas Butano.”

My voice sounds hoarse, they say.

I search the callejones.

I hear you’ve moved away.

*When full the gas tanks weigh 30 kilos.

**The gas men climb many hundreds of stairs in a day.