The story
He keeps writing while the wind takes everything else.
He scratches dates beside cracked fields and a busted fence, naming the dust that fills the house and the silence that follows supper. The tractor sits dead in the yard, the well runs thin, and a woman’s empty chair stays at the table while he keeps turning pages, trying to prove this ruin was once a life.
No lyric sheet is published for this track, so this reading is drawn from its title and the sound of the record.
Lyrics
The lyric sheet for this one isn't published yet — press play and listen along.