You park where the willow tree bends
Where the city street finally ends
The headlights are dim in the gray
The colors of evening decay
You watch as the passenger goes
The cold winter wind softly blows
You count every step on the grit
While the cigarette ember is lit
One step for the ghost of a name
Two steps for a flickering flame
Three steps to the edge of the gate
Four steps while the lonely hearts wait
The leather is cracked on the seat
The rhythm of idling is beat
You lean on the door with a sigh
Beneath a bruised violet sky
One step for the ghost of a name
Two steps for a flickering flame
Three steps to the edge of the gate
Four steps while the lonely hearts wait
The meter is ticking in time
A slow and a methodical chime
You know where the driveway will lead
A hunger that no one can feed
The gravel is white as a bone
You sit in the cabin alone
The headlights illuminate glass
As the minutes of midnight will pass
You shift into gear with a click
The clock on the dashboard is quick
You leave all the footsteps behind
The patterns you carved in your mind
One step for the ghost of a name
Two steps for a flickering flame
Three steps to the edge of the gate
Four steps while the lonely hearts wait
Counting the stones.
Counting the stones.
You drive away.
