You sweep the boards where cypress knees break through
The humid air tastes thick like gasoline
You sort the shards in shades of stormy blue
The finest colors that you've ever seen
Meter's ticking on a fare you don't collect
The sun dips low behind the cypress stand
You hold the fragment up to catch the wreck
Light pays the debt no passenger could demand
Bayou glass cuts the heavy dusk
Color bleeding on the weathered wood
Every shard a prayer you trust
Turning mud to something understood
Your fingers trace the lead lines thin and cold
Mapping out a parish you don't know
Stories of the water dark and old
Soldered joints where copper makes it whole
Meter's ticking on a fare you don't collect
The sun dips low behind the cypress stand
You hold the fragment up to catch the wreck
Light pays the debt no passenger could demand
Bayou glass cuts the heavy dusk
Color bleeding on the weathered wood
Every shard a prayer you trust
Turning mud to something understood
A gator slides where reflection used to be
Dragonflies stitch the air with needle flight
You frame the chaos so the eye can see
Turning blind dark into colored light
Bayou glass cuts the heavy dusk
Color bleeding on the weathered wood
Every shard a prayer you trust
Turning mud to something understood
The porch light hums a sodium yellow tune
Your panel glows with ruby green and gold
No dispatcher calls the coming afternoon
The night shift stories that are never told
Bayou glass cuts the heavy dusk
Color bleeding on the weathered wood
Every shard a prayer you trust
Turning mud to something understood
The horizon bleeds a thin dangerous line
Meter drops as morning takes the fare
You pack the tools the copper and the twine
Another masterpiece waiting in the air
Bayou glass cuts the heavy dusk
Color bleeding on the weathered wood
Every shard a prayer you trust
Turning mud to something understood
Bayou glass the only light that's good
The meter hits zero engine finally cold
Bayou glass holds the dark
