Track Insight / Lyrics
The oven heat is humming low
I watch the heavy river flow
The wooden porch is grey and old
The evening air is turning cold
Sift the flour, stir the gold
Stories that the bayou told
Trace the edge of cedar beams
Waking from the baker's dreams
The cypress knees are poking through
The water wears a purple hue
I step outside with heavy tread
Before the town is out of bed
Sift the flour, stir the gold
Stories that the bayou told
Trace the edge of cedar beams
Waking from the baker's dreams
A copper pot, a pinch of salt
The ticking clock comes to a halt
I feel the dampness in my bone
A quiet man who stands alone
The lamp is lit, the wick is trimmed
The horizon line is softly rimmed
I keep the beacon burning bright
To lead the lonely through the night
My apron carries stains of yeast
The hunger for a midnight feast
The bullfrogs sing a muddy song
Where all the heavy spirits belong
Sift the flour, stir the gold
Stories that the bayou told
Trace the edge of cedar beams
Waking from the baker's dreams
The dough will rise while stars appear
The morning light is drawing near
I wipe the counter, lock the door
And pace the dusty kitchen floor
Sift the flour, stir the gold
Stories that the bayou told
Trace the edge of cedar beams
Waking from the baker's dreams
Cedar beams and river mud.
Fresh bread and the bayou blood.
