Track Insight / Lyrics
You trace the splintered rail with calloused thumb
Cypress knees pierce water, ghost-gray and numb
Diesel fumes curl low where herons hunt at dusk
Your boots know every warped and weathered slat
The ferry horn bleats once, a low fog cello
Shrimp nets dry stiff in fading amber light
Rope burns map your palms like old constellations
Gator slides cut V-shapes, silent, deep, and wide
You count the ties between each departing run
Coffee turns cold in a dented steel thermos
Bayou porch light swings on a rusted chain
Spanish moss drips slow as blackstrap molasses
You breathe the scent of mud and coming rain
This wooden edge holds all you've ever known
Bayou porch light swings, you remain
Crawdad chimneys dot the muddy, root-tangled bank
Night-shift humor lands flat against the silence
A joke about the tide and timing dies unsaid
Regulars would laugh, but water keeps its counsel
Grease-stained wisdom stays locked in your fingers
Bayou porch light swings on a rusted chain
Spanish moss drips slow as blackstrap molasses
You breathe the scent of mud and coming rain
This wooden edge holds all you've ever known
Bayou porch light swings, you remain
Felt-damped piano notes drift from the shack window
Brush snare whispers soft on a cymbal's brass rim
Upright bass walks slow, a steady, walking pulse
Muted saxophone cries like lost gulls over water
Wall of sound builds, dense and energetic now
You wipe phantom grease from a rag, old habit
Short jokes fall flat against the cypress silence
The ferry horn bleats low, a fog-bound cello moan
Your shift ends when the last light kisses water
Porch boards cool beneath your worn-out soles
Mosquitoes whine in counter-melody, high and thin
You trace one final edge, then turn toward home lights
The bayou keeps your rhythm deep in its black roots
Spanish moss sways slow, a metronome of dusk
Bayou porch light swings, you remain
Bayou porch light swings on a rusted chain
Spanish moss drips slow as blackstrap molasses
You breathe the scent of mud and coming rain
This wooden edge holds all you've ever known
Bayou porch light swings on a rusted chain
This wooden edge holds all you've ever known
Light swings. Edge holds. You remain.
