I lean on kickstand by the porch screen door
Counting cracks along the concrete floor
Your hand brushed my seat when you were nine
Left a scratch that somehow still aligns
I trace the gravel crescent slow
Where you used to ride and let me go
Every stone I roll beneath
Holds a little bit of disbelief
Your mama called your name across the yard
You carved our initials in my guard
Now the twilight stripes the driveway gray
And I wait where you forgot to stay
I trace the gravel crescent slow
Where you used to ride and let me go
Every stone I roll beneath
Holds a little bit of disbelief
A moving truck hummed past at half-past eight
Left a oil stain shaped like something great
I felt your sneakers leave my pedals bare
Now the crickets fill the empty air
I trace the gravel crescent slow
Where you used to ride and let me go
Every stone I roll beneath
Holds a little bit of disbelief
Chain still turns though no one asks it to
Rust remembers what the tires knew
If you come back, I'll be leaning here
Bent but standing after every year
Streetlight flickers on the cul-de-sac
I keep your route like a beaten track
Seventeen summers, one bent wheel
I am more than what the scrap man steals
I trace the gravel crescent slow
Where you used to ride and let me go
Every stone I roll beneath
Holds a little bit of disbelief
Rust chain ticking on a cold July
Spokes hum low as the daylight dies
