Salt crust on my fingers from the lamp
Twin suns bleed gold across the swamp
Six-gun rests on splintered cypress knee
Light keeper watches what the tides decree
Herring gulls cry over brackish water
Revolver cold against the porch's daughter
Porch light swings where water meets the sky
Two suns sinking slow as lullaby
Gunslinger dreams in salt and cypress shade
Lantern burns the debt the sea has paid
Foot tambourine taps time on weathered planks
Gang vocals rise where the river banks
Keeper knows the rhythm of the flood
Drifter reads the weather in the mud
Spanish moss hangs heavy on the rail
Twin shadows stretch across the pale
One hand on the lens, one on the steel
Both men learning what the dusk reveals
Fog rolls in on silent catfoot paws
Neither man speaks of distant wars
The bayou keeps what the ocean gave
Two souls quiet on a wooden wave
First star pricks the violet bruise of night
Keeper trims the wick to steady light
Porch light swings where water meets the sky
Two suns sinking slow as lullaby
Gunslinger dreams in salt and cypress shade
Lantern burns the debt the sea has paid
Foot tambourine taps time on weathered planks
Gang vocals rise where the river banks
Harmonium drone holds the fading glow
Strummed guitars whisper soft and low
No words needed between the two
Bayou knows what each has been through
Twin suns gone, the lantern stays
Gunslinger tips his hat to fading light
Keeper nods into the coming night
Both walk paths that only they can know
Where bayou meets the ocean's flow
Six-gun holstered, lamp glass clean
Peace found in the space between
Porch light swings where water meets the sky
Two suns sinking slow as lullaby
Gunslinger dreams in salt and cypress shade
Lantern burns the debt the sea has paid
Foot tambourine taps time on weathered planks
Gang vocals rise where the river banks
Twin suns gone. The lantern stays.
Bayou keeps its ancient ways.
