EDDIE DONOVAN

Dad said work hard, you’ll make it, but the factory’s weeds and rust And the union hall’s a boarded tombstone gathering dust

My buddy joined the army, came back with eyes like busted glass Said the dream he fought to save burned him up real fast My cousin drives for DoorDash, burning gas he can’t afford And every mile he travels feels like a prayer ignored

Don't lose faith you must fight to get by, keep your head above the tide Hold your family close at night, pray the bills don’t multiply Don't lose faith you must fight to get by, not to fall, not to drown Just to make it through the month in this worn-out, beaten-down town

I walk past shuttered storefronts where my mother bought my shoes Now the windows stare back empty like they’re haunted by the news A preacher on the corner shouts salvation through a mike But the only thing he’s saving is the echo of the night I see kids on BMX bikes weaving through the pothole scars Trying to outrun the gravity of who their parents are

Don't lose faith you must fight to get by, keep your head above the tide Hold your family close at night, pray the bills don’t multiply Don't lose faith you must fight to get by, not to fall, not to drown Just to make it through the month in this worn-out, beaten-down town

Still on Friday nights we gather, crack a beer and watch the game Talk about the good old days like they’re something we can claim We laugh to keep from crying, we live to stay alive In a country built on promises we’re just trying to survive And though the world keeps shrinking down to bills and borrowed time There’s a fire in our chests that refuses to resign

Oh, somewhere past the silence Where the hurt begins to thin There’s a life we almost opened But we never stepped within And tonight we’re holding steady In the shadow of what’s been

Don't lose faith you must fight to get by, keep your head above the tide Hold your family close at night, pray the bills don’t multiply Don't lose faith you must fight to get by, not to fall, not to drown Just to make it through the month in this worn-out, beaten-down town

Walking in circles 'round an empty block Telling myself I'm just out for a walk Streetlights in the distance fade and flicker on Once there were churches here and trading ports Once there were mothers on these corner porches Once there were buildings standing in these vacant lots

I don't wanna walk down the Baltimore road Through a town that's gone to seed Every corner storefront closed Through the autumn Through the cold If you're still alive I don't know But I don't wanna walk down the Baltimore road alone

Last time we spoke You said you had the flu But that was weeks ago So tell me what is new And tell me when you're free so we can meet up soon There's something in the way you hold your breath The quiet in your voice tells me you aren't your best And I can hear the tapping of your nervous hands

And I don't wanna walk down the Baltimore road Through a town that's gone to seed Every corner storefront closed Through the autumn Through the cold If you're still alive I don't know But I don't wanna walk down the Baltimore road alone

I wish I knew the words to say I wish there was a way to save you

But I don't wanna walk down the Baltimore road Through a town that's gone to seed Every corner storefront closed Through the autumn Through the cold If you're still alive I don't know But I don't wanna walk down the Baltimore road alone I don't wanna walk down the Baltimore road alone

Work light swinging like a lantern Over rust and gasoline Frank says every broken engine Ain’t as hopeless as it seems Hands me down a battered wrench Says, “Kid, try not to shake” But my whole damn life is trembling Every choice I’m scared to make And the silence feels like pressure But it’s warmer than my home In this graveyard full of engines I don’t feel so alone

In the garage at night Where the lost kids go to learn How to take apart the pieces Of a life that always burns I don’t know where I’m headed But I’m trying not to hide In the garage at night Frank keeps the light on inside

There’s a photo on the workbench Of a boy I never knew Frank don’t talk about him often But tonight the truth leaks through Says, “You keep on showing up Like you’re looking for a sign” I say, “Maybe I’m just tired Or pretending I’m fine” And the radio is humming Some old song about regret Feels like every lyric’s written For the things we both forget

In the garage at night Where the lost kids go to learn How to take apart the pieces Of a life that always burns I don’t know where I’m headed But I’m trying not to hide In the garage at night Frank keeps the light on inside

Maybe freedom’s just a highway Maybe guidance is a lie Maybe both are just excuses For the fear we hold inside But tonight I feel a heartbeat In the hum of metal parts Two broken men rebuilding What they lost inside their hearts

In the garage at night Where the truth don’t need a name Where a kid can learn to stand up And a man can lose his shame I don’t know where I’m going But I’m done with running blind In the garage at night Frank keeps the light on inside

Frank turns off the work light Says, “Kid, you’ll be all right” I leave with that battered wrench In my hand beneath the night

We met where the pavement ended Past the railroad crossing sign Where the weeds grew through the gravel And the river cut the pines

Danny backed his pickup down there Headlights pointed toward the trees Marcus stole two folding lawn chairs From his uncle’s place on Greene And for a little while nobody cared Who got picked or left behind The fire painted all our shadows The same color in the night

We were all bonfire kids Kings of borrowed Friday nights Looking for a place of our own Living like the fire would last

Didn’t know where we’d end up Or who we’d someday be We were the bonfire kids Burning wild and free

Danny swore he’d see the ocean Before he turned twenty-three Ray kept skipping stones forever Like they knew where they’d all be

Tasha laughed at everybody Though she watched more than she spoke Every spark that climbed the treetops Looked like wishes made of smoke And the flames kept climbing upward Past the branches overhead Taking all the things we carried That we were too scared to say

We were all bonfire kids Kings of borrowed Friday nights Looking for a place of our own Living like the fire would last

Didn’t know where we’d end up Or who we’d someday be We were the bonfire kids Burning wild and free

Danny never made forty Ray still takes the booth by the window Tasha pours another coffee Frank still leaves the garage light on

Some disappeared like smoke Some still live a mile away Funny how some summer nights Can last your whole life long

We were all bonfire kids Kings of borrowed Friday nights Looking for a place of our own Living like the fire would last

Didn’t know where we’d end up Or who we’d someday be We were the bonfire kids Lighting up the dark We were the bonfire kids We were the bonfire kids

Golden leaves on Newbury sigh in the cold Red bricks whisper secrets of stories untold The ghosts of Hail Marys from fall Sundays past The Patriots won big but nothing can last

We’re grasping for dreams in the autumn’s embrace Boston’s shadows are etched on your tear-streaked face But in this chilly dusk where hope tends to fade A fire still flickers where memories were made

The Charles runs slow like our idle intent Skyline ablaze yet we can’t pay the rent We watch the frost creep toward the heart of the green In Fenway’s shadow we ache to be seen

We’re grasping for dreams in the autumn’s embrace Boston’s shadows are etched on your tear-streaked face But in this chilly dusk where hope tends to fade A fire still flickers where memories were made

Trapped by old echoes and love’s bitter plea Like stubborn old elms that refuse to break free Yet somewhere inside there's a spark that ignites We’ll rise from these ashes beneath city lights A distant church bell rings out through the frost Reminding us gently not all’s ever lost The North End wakes softly with cappuccino steam A second chance lingers in a whispered dream

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead like angry angels trapped in a cage And the break-room clock ticks slow as a sentence on a page We heat our lunches in plastic coffins, steam rising like a tired prayer Talking about the dreams we buried somewhere between the shifts we share Nurses, aides, janitors — the ones who hold the world together when it shakes We laugh to keep from crying, but the truth still finds the breaks

We’re break-room saints, praying to the microwave hum Holding on to tiny miracles in a world that’s coming undone We’re break-room saints, with tired hands and borrowed grace If heaven’s watching over us, it’s hiding in this place

We trade our aches like baseball cards, comparing scars from nights too long Tell stories of the patients who slipped away while the radio played a sad old song Someone brings in donuts, a small miracle in a world that’s lost its shine And for ten minutes we remember what it felt like to be fine Then the buzzer calls us back to rooms that smell of bleach and fear Where we hold the hands of strangers when their families disappear

Break-room saints, praying to the microwave hum Holding on to tiny miracles in a world that’s coming undone Break-room saints, with tired hands and borrowed grace If heaven’s watching over us, it’s hiding in this place

Oh, somewhere past the overpass Where the morning feels like home There’s a life we keep on craving Round a table set with warmth But until we taste that sweetness We’ll keep standing in this glow

Break-room saints, praying to the microwave hum Holding on to tiny miracles in a world that’s coming undone Break-room saints, with tired hands and borrowed grace If heaven’s watching over us, it’s hiding in this place

Learned to drive behind the feed store In a Chevy that barely ran Stalled it six times in the gravel Nobody there to lend a hand I patched my jeans with duct tape Fixed my heart with borrowed lines Every lesson that I needed Came too late or came in signs And I kept waiting for a voice To cut through all the noise But the silence was the only thing That ever called me “boy”

Nobody showed me how to do it Nobody showed me how to stand I learned from busted engines And grease-stained hands

Got my nose broke behind the bleachers By a kid twice my size First girl left a note on the dashboard Said she needed something more I learned to fix what’s shattered With hands that never healed And every time I needed guidance Life just handed me the wheel And I kept hoping for a map Or someone who had my back But all I had were empty rooms And the echo of what I lacked

Nobody showed me how to do it Nobody showed me how to stand I learned from busted engines And grease-stained hands

Maybe I became the man I needed at thirteen The one who’d say “you’re worth it” When the world felt cold and mean Maybe that's why I leave the garage light on Maybe that's why I stay up late Maybe every kid that wanders in Reminds me of my younger face

Nobody showed me how to do it Nobody showed me how to stand I learned from busted engines And grease-stained hands

Now I leave that garage light burning For anyone who needs a friend 'Cause nobody showed me how to do it And I don't want that story again

The neon sign’s been buzzing Since nineteen eighty-three Like it never got the message That this town ain’t what it used to be

Tasha pours the first pot of coffee At a quarter after five Watching truckers and night-shift workers Trade one day for another life

The morning crowd comes drifting in Steel-toed boots and wrinkled shirts Talking weather, layoffs, ballgames And whose cousin got transferred first

Down at the diner on Route 9 Where the coffee’s strong and the neon shines Old friends, strangers, second chances Coffee stains and borrowed time

Some are running from yesterday Some are trying to get it right Down at the diner on Route 9 The lights stay on all night

Tasha knows the ones watching the highway And the ones looking through the glass She’s spent a few afternoons herself Watching things she couldn’t get back

Danny used to slide in after practice Mud still on his baseball cleats Talking like the world was waiting Somewhere past the county streets

Tasha still remembers laughing When he swore he’d never stay Funny how she still looks over More than she’d ever say

Down at the diner on Route 9 Where the coffee’s strong and the neon shines Old friends, strangers, second chances Coffee stains and borrowed time

Some are running from yesterday Some are trying to get it right Down at the diner on Route 9 The lights stay on all night

A truck slows down out on the highway Its headlights cutting through the rain For a second she remembers somebody Asking if she’d leave someday

Funny how some roads stay with you Long after they’ve disappeared Like a song you haven’t heard in decades Still playing somewhere in your ears

Outside Route 9 keeps rolling westward Past the county line and on Tasha turns and flips the sign to closed Before the feeling’s gone

Down at the diner on Route 9 Where the coffee’s strong and the neon shines Old friends, strangers, second chances Coffee stains and borrowed time

Some are running from yesterday Some are trying to get it right Down at the diner on Route 9 The lights stay on all night

She lies in bed with headphones on, lit by two screens’ lonely glow Her face half-lost in shadows only algorithms know. Friends she’s never met in person know more than I ever will And the silence in her doorway feels like time standing still I knock and whisper softly, “Talk to me tonight,” But she drifts through digital galaxies where nothing feels quite right

Consumed by the feed, drifting through a wired-up dream Reaching out for something real in a world of reels and memes Lena in the glow, I’m losing her to the screen Trying to save my little girl from a world she’s never seen

Her friends post perfect pictures, lives polished to a shine And she scrolls through curated fantasies wondering why not mine I see her shoulders tighten like she’s bracing for a blow From a world that judges harshly through a screen’s unblinking glow I sit beside her doorway listening to her breathe Thinking of the little girl who once clung to my sleeve

Consumed by the feed, drifting through a wired-up dream Reaching out for something real in a world of reels and memes Lena in the glow, I’m losing her to the screen Trying to save my little girl from a world she’s never seen

I want to break the silence, smash the walls that keep her bound But she’s fighting battles inward where no sound can be found Still I leave the hallway light on like a beacon in the night Hoping she’ll come find me when she’s ready for the fight And though the world feels colder than the glow that fills her room I’ll stand guard like one should against the rising gloom

Oh, somewhere past the static Where the night breaks clean and true There’s a voice that still remembers Who she was before she grew And I’ll be waiting in the doorway Till she finds her way back through

Consumed by the feed, drifting through a wired-up dream Reaching out for something real in a world of reels and memes Lena in the glow, I’m losing her to the screen Trying to save my little girl from a world she’s never seen

The sidewalks crack like busted vinyl spinning out the same sad tune And the streetlights flicker like dying fireflies trapped beneath a rust-belt moon Mom says we’re leaving soon, but she’s said that since I was nine And every time we pack our bags the city pulls us back in line Kids vape behind the schoolyard fence like they’re breathing out their fears And the teachers talk of budget cuts like prophets counting down the years

I got the crumbling city blues, families fleeing, hope on the run Every corner feels like yesterday, every tomorrow weighs a ton

I got the crumbling city blues, trying to find a place to stand But the ground keeps falling out from underneath my plans

I walk past boarded storefronts where my mother says she danced at seventeen Now the windows stare back empty like they’re haunted by the ghosts of what’s been A man sleeps on a bus bench wrapped in a coat that’s lost its fight And the sirens wail through alleyways like wolves hungry for the night I keep my headphones loud enough to drown the city’s aching bones But the rhythm of its heartbreak still finds its way into my own

I got the crumbling city blues, families fleeing, hope on the run Every corner feels like yesterday, every tomorrow weighs a ton I got the crumbling city blues, trying to find a place to stand But the ground keeps falling out from underneath my plans

Sometimes I climb the fire escape to watch the skyline sag and sway The buildings leaning like old men who’ve seen too many dreams decay I write poems in a notebook about who I want to be Someone strong enough to outrun the gravity of this city But every time I try to leave, the streets whisper my name And I’m torn between the life I want and the one that keeps me chained Oh, somewhere past the river Where the skyline breaks in two There’s a road that leads to freedom If I can make it through But tonight the city’s calling And I’m tangled in its tune

I got the crumbling city blues, families fleeing, hope on the run Every corner feels like yesterday, every tomorrow weighs a ton I got the crumbling city blues, trying to find a place to stand But the ground keeps falling out from underneath my plans

Danny Mercer played shortstop Back when the town had a team Could hit a fastball to the river Or so that's how the old men seem

Sam would cut his hair on Saturdays While his father talked about the game Sarah watched him check out books on airplanes Back before everybody knew his name

Then September came recruiting And he signed beneath the flag Said he'd see the world a little Before he settled down and back

He came home from Iraq quieter With a ribbon and a thousand-yard stare Folks thanked him at the football game But never asked what happened there

Danny's fighting ghosts nobody sees In a war that's never done Trying to outrun yesterday But yesterday still runs

The factory gates were padlocked The roofers cut their crews in half A doctor gave him pain pills For a back he threw out bad

One bottle turned to two bottles Then a dozen different names Everybody saw the changes Nobody knew who was to blame

Danny's fighting ghosts nobody sees In a war that's never done Trying to outrun yesterday But yesterday still runs

The ambulance came one Sunday Before the church bells rang

Sam stood quiet in the barbershop Sarah stared out through the glass

Danny Mercer played shortstop Back when the town still had a team Now his name lives in a photograph And in the memories in between

The phone lit up on the nightstand like a cop’s flashlight in a back-alley rain Buzzing out orders from a boss who knows not my name Maria’s curled on the far side of the bed, whispering dreams to the windowpane And I’m scrolling through strangers’ victories till my own life don’t feel the same Outside the highway moans like a wounded steel-string guitar And every mile marker feels like a promise I never got to start

I’m on a digital leash, running fast but never free Every step I take is counted, every secret’s not just mine to keep Plugged in, tuned out, wired up, worn down, tied to a world that won’t let go If this is what they call connection, why’s it feel like chains around my soul

On the morning train the whole car bows its head like a congregation of the damned Screens glowing blue like stained-glass windows in a church that’s lost its land A kid in a hoodie taps his phone like he’s sending prayers to a god who won’t reply And I watch my reflection in the window fade each time a signal dies We’re all chained to something humming in our pockets A leash we never chose but can’t seem to drop yet

I’m on a digital leash, running fast but never free Every step I take is counted, every secret’s not just mine to keep Plugged in, tuned out, wired up, worn down, tied to a world that won’t let go If this is what they call connection, why’s it feel like chains around my soul

At work the scanners beep like heart monitors in a ward where hope’s gone still And the PA’s voice cracks through the speakers like a judge reading out a bill I dream of smashing every screen, letting silence flood the room like a rising tide But the leash tugs hard, and I swallow my pride Some nights I swear I hear my own heartbeat trying to break free But the glow pulls me back like a chain around my dignity

Oh, somewhere out past the power lines Where the sky’s still dark and wide There’s a road with no reception And a man I used to be inside But the leash keeps pulling tighter And I keep losing the fight

I’m on a digital leash, running fast but never free Every step I take is counted, every secret’s not just mine to keep Plugged in, tuned out, wired up, worn down, tied to a world that won’t let go If this is what they call connection, why’s it feel like chains around my soul

It ain't easy Upholding the light of my life Driving in the dark Feeling your way by the feeling in your heart Praying you don't crash or stall I got one more payment left Ain't no time to waste I got one more thing I need to do (mmm)

Let's ditch this town Before we fall apart Just you and me baby In my electric car It ain't easy Leaving the life you know But Main Street is a dead end road We tried so hard to stay But baby now There's no time to lose We got one more payment left Ain't no time to waste We got one more thing we need to do

Let's ditch this town Before we fall apart Just you and me baby In my electric car

I bought an electric car on credit, silent as a ghost drifting down Route 9 Cables coiled in the trunk like hospital IVs feeding a life that ain’t quite mine The factory gates are rusted shut, weeds climbing the fence like thieves in the night And I swear I still hear the old machines calling out beneath the moonlight Dad’s shadow lingers on the loading dock where he spent his best years Now I’m driving strangers’ groceries through a town drowning in its fears

We’re electric ghosts on the highway, moving fast with no heartbeat Trading muscle for a battery, trading pride for ends to meet We’re electric ghosts on the highway, running quiet through the pain A plastic hum under the hood, but nothing human in the frame

I pass the diner where Maria used to wait tables in her blue apron and tired smile Now the neon flickers like a dying promise you can see for half a mile Kids on scooters weave through potholes like they’re dodging landmines in a war And the church bell rings at sundown though no one prays there anymore I grip the wheel like it’s the last thing keeping me from drifting away A ghost in a battery-powered coffin chasing one more payday

We’re electric ghosts on the highway, moving fast with no heartbeat Trading muscle for a battery, trading pride for ends to meet We’re electric ghosts on the highway, running quiet through the pain A plastic hum under the hood, but nothing human in the frame At the charging station by the mall, the lights hum like insects in a jar A teenager in a hoodie stares at his phone like he’s waiting for a charge I think about the steel I used to shape, the sparks that flew like fireworks in July Now the only sparks I see are warnings on a dashboard I can’t buy I’m a man built for fire and thunder, trapped in a world that whispers low A ghost riding a silent engine down roads that don’t want me anymore

Oh, give me back the roar Give me back the flame Give me back the world Where a man’s hands still had a name But the past is locked behind me And the future’s running cold

We’re electric ghosts on the highway, moving fast with no heartbeat Trading muscle for a battery, trading pride for ends to meet We’re electric ghosts on the highway, running quiet through the pain A plastic hum under the hood, but nothing human in the frame

Every Thursday at the hall The folding chairs come out again Coffee brewing in the corner Same old jokes, same old friends

There's an empty table by the doorway Been there longer than I can recall Nobody sits there on Thursday evenings But it means something to us all Hank still talks about Da Nang Like he left there yesterday Mike swears Army coffee tasted Better back in Desert Storm days

Jacob mostly keeps to himself Since coming home from Kandahar But he laughs a little louder now Than he did when he first walked in the door

Coffee cups and bingo cards Scattered across table three Same old stories getting told Like they're brand-new memories

For the names still hanging on the wall And the friends they still talk about That empty table by the doorway Keeps us all around somehow

Danny Mercer's picture hangs there Between the flags and honor roll Somebody left a faded baseball Beside a frame of black and gold

Jacob pauses by the table Same as Hank and Mike do too Funny how the folks not sitting there Still make room for a few

Some never made it home from overseas Some made it home but didn't stay Some left an empty seat at supper Long before they passed away

Funny how that empty table Never really stays that way Folks you haven't seen in decades Still got a place somewhere

The prize is still a fruitcake And twenty dollars if you win Funny how nobody seems to care Who takes the money home again

For the names still hanging on the wall And the friends they still talk about That empty table by the doorway Keeps us all around somehow

Yeah that empty table by the doorway Keeps us all around somehow

Your mama’s house leans like a drunk on payday Paint peeled off the porch swing chain Last year’s wreath still on the front door Rust climbing up that busted weather vane Rain sneaks in through the attic window Buckets on the stairs catch every drop Same clock over the old refrigerator Same second hand that never seems to stop

Come on Baby Let’s go Past the grain silos and the late-night glow Of the truck stop sign barely hanging on We’ll outrun the debts and the break-of-dawn This old Chevy's got a tank full of promise And a road that pulls us in But the line we’re chasing’s cutting through the storm Take my hand Lean into the turn Leave this dead-end street and let it burn

Main Street’s got a half-off promise Faded in the dollar store glass One by one the letters on the movie marquee Fell out and gathered in the grass Your old man’s coat on the back of a barstool Smells like overtime and fear You wipe the suds off a chipped blue counter Counting tips Counting wasted years

Come on Baby Let’s go Past the grain silos and the late-night glow Of the truck stop sign barely hanging on We’ll outrun the debts and the break-of-dawn This old Chevy's got a tank full of promise And a road that pulls us in But the line we’re chasing’s cutting through the storm Take my hand Lean into the turn Leave this dead-end street and let it burn

Sky’s stretched thin That bruised-up violet Wind kicks gravel at your shoes You say “This town’s in my blood like a habit” I say “You get to choose” Engine humming like a vow between us (oh yeah) Headlights carving through the mist Your name hanging on my cracked windshield Like a prayer I insist

Come on Baby Let’s go Past the grain silos and the late-night glow Of the truck stop sign barely hanging on We’ll outrun the debts and the break-of-dawn This old Chevy's got a tank full of promise, And a road that pulls us in But the line we’re chasing’s cutting through the storm Take my hand Lean into the turn Leave this dead-end street and let it burn

In a sleepy Boston town dreams collide Hopes once high on the football side You said darling watch we'll win the fight but the stars fell, faded from sight

White picket fences lined with rust Promises shattered yet they'd adjust She held his hand in the silent night Whispered we'll find our own light

Like the patriots of old we stand Through the storm we will keep our hand In the ashes of dreams, we're still free Building a new faint American dream

Bills pile high on the kitchen table Faith shaken hard but love still stable They chased the goal posts one more mile With each other they'd face every trial

Someday they'll rise again like dawn Hands clasped tight will never be gone In the shadows strength they gain Through every loss dreams remain

Morning coffee with a bittersweet taste Painted over walls with memories traced In every corner of hardship they see A chance for redemption, a way to be

They call me names that burn my skin Built their kingdom on where I've been Their faded glory casts a spell Ugly hearts that love to yell

Ugliness hates the shine of light They crushed my wings so I couldn't take flight But now I'm high where they can't see Cut my chains I'm finally free

Their words were stones they threw my way But stones grow dull, and dreams don't decay The smartest kid they tried to break But wisdom thrives in dark heartache

I see their shadows from the past A dying echo that couldn't last The fear the man I've come to be Their silence now my melody

Ugliness hates the shine of light They crushed my wings so I couldn't take flight But now I'm high where they can't see Cut my chains I'm finally free

Fingers point but they can't reach Spitting venom, they can't preach Their throne was built from stolen pride I turn my back and let it die

Marcus stands by the sliding doors

In his blue vest under buzzing lights

Most folks never learn his name

Or even look him in the eye

He served over in the desert

Back when the world was painted tan

Came home with a medal in a drawer

And a shake in his right hand

But he still says good evening

Like he means every word

Some folks count what they've lost

He counts who's coming back again

Started up a small repair shop

On a borrowed banker's loan

The contracts all dried up

Bankruptcy closed the doors

His wife stood right beside him

Said, "We'll find another way"

Then cancer came one winter

And slowly took her away

But he still says good evening

Like he means every word

Some folks count what they've lost

He counts who's coming back again

Every morning on my way to work, I’d pass that house up on the hill

Fresh paint shining in the sunlight, two new trucks sitting still

I’d be driving a rusted pickup, held together with hope and luck

Wondering what they’d figured out, and why I stayed so stuck

Fresh paint don’t stop the rain, new trucks don’t erase old blues

Everybody’s fixing something they never put on the evening news

I spent years trying to catch them, measuring my life by theirs

Never knew behind those curtains they were saying quiet prayers

He was working every Saturday, trying to keep the mortgage paid

She was crying in the laundry room while the kids were off at games

Past-due notices by the coffee pot beneath a stack of bills

The calculator quit before he did at half past two a.m.

Fresh paint don’t stop the rain, new trucks don’t erase old blues

Everybody’s fixing something they never put on the evening news

I spent years trying to catch them, measuring my life by theirs

Never knew behind those curtains they were saying quiet prayers

Last Sunday after church, I saw Mr. Jones alone

Sitting in his garage with a photograph he’d found

He smiled and said, “You know, I used to envy your old truck

At least I figured it was paid for.” We both laughed, but not too much

That old pickup still rattles every mile back into town

Funny how it felt a little lighter once I laid that envy down

Four plates around the kitchen table, supper getting cold again

My little girl kept talking like she’d never have to end

Fresh paint don’t stop the rain, new trucks don’t erase old blues

Every house is carrying something hidden from the passing view

I spent years measuring my life by a picture that wasn’t true

Now I just wave when I drive by, like neighbors ought to do

We used to fill this kitchen with laughter, fights, and plans

Now the walls feel like a courtroom where no one understands

Jack sleeps on the sofa now, says it’s better for his back

But we both know it’s the distance neither one of us can track

Lena asks me quietly if love can still be saved

I tell her “maybe someday,” though I’m scared of what I’ve braved

This is the house that split in two, where love became a ghost

Where promises turned brittle and we lost what mattered most

This is the house that split in two, but I’m still sweeping up the floor

Trying to build a future from the pieces by the door

The porch light flickers nightly like it’s choosing sides

And the silence in the hallway is a place where truth divides

I find old photos in a drawer — Jack’s smile, my Sunday best

Two kids who thought the world would bend beneath their tenderness

But time’s a thief that steals in shadows, taking what it will

And we’re left with broken promises we’re learning to rebuild

This is the house that split in two, where love became a ghost

Where promises turned brittle and we lost what mattered most

This is the house that split in two, but I’m still sweeping up the floor

Trying to build a future from the pieces by the door

Oh, somewhere past the heartache

Where the dark learns how to fade

There’s a home we haven’t built yet

From the ruins we’ve remade

And I’ll keep the porch light burning

Till the dawn gives up the shade

This is the house that split in two, where love became a ghost

Where promises turned brittle and we lost what mattered most

This is the house that split in two, but I’m still sweeping up the floor

Trying to build a future from the pieces by the door

Evelyn Price lives on Main Street

In the little white house by the bend

The one where the porch light's always

Beating sunset home again

Her husband hung it back in '82

Said, "You'll never come home in the dark"

Forty years later she still keeps his promise

Every evening before the stars.

There’s a porch light on Main Street

Burning before the stars

Anybody passing by it

Knows exactly where they are

Sam sees it when he's locking up

After sweeping off the floor

Frank passes it after midnight

Coming back from the garage

Ray sees it from Veterans Hall

Tasha sees it closing up

And somehow that little light

Is still burning when they pass

There's one last light on Main Street

Still burning after all the rest

Long before the stars come out

Long after they've gone to rest

Every Thursday after supper

Frank pulls off at Exit Nine

Gets a coffee from the counter

Leaves a dollar and a dime

The kids are staring at their screens

The truckers check the weather line

Frank just walks beyond the gas pumps

To something hard to find

There's a last payphone by the interstate

Leaning slightly to one side

Holding up a piece of yesterday

Everybody else drove by

The paint is cracked, the cord is tangled

The numbers faded, black and white

But it still works if you've got a quarter

And a reason to call tonight

He never checks a piece of paper

Never squints to read a name

His fingers know the number

Like an old familiar game

Three rings drifting through the darkness

Then a voice he knows by heart

He smiles and says, "It's me again"

The way he always starts

There's a last payphone by the interstate

Leaning slightly to one side

Holding up a piece of yesterday

Everybody else drove by

The paint is cracked, the cord is tangled

The numbers faded, black and white

But it still works if you've got a quarter

And a reason to call tonight

A waitress asked him once in passing

Who he talked to every week

Frank looked out beyond the highway

And stirred his coffee while she cleaned

Then he said, "Somebody I knew"

And left it sitting there

Like a photograph inside a drawer

Nobody opens anymore

Next spring they're gonna take it out

That's what the clerk was saying

Put a charger where it stands now

Keep the travelers moving

Frank just laughed and dropped a quarter

Like he'd done a thousand times

Then listened through the evening traffic

To the voice on the line

There's a last payphone by the interstate

Leaning slightly to one side

Holding up a piece of yesterday

Everybody else drove by

And someday they'll haul it off

Like it was never standing there

But some numbers stay with you

Long after they disappear

Three rings drifting through the darkness

Headlights rolling through the rain

Frank hangs up and drives home slowly

Till next Thursday comes again

Lighthouse

Tells me

I'm worthless

Lost in the sea

I know

There's better things

Better things

Better things

But if I knew how

I'd have done it by now

The alarm bells sound

As I hit the ground

Take me

I'm nothing

Let me

I'm drowning

I know

I'm meant for better things

Better things

Better things

But if I knew how

I'd have done it by now

The alarm bells sound

As I hit the ground

Well, I was raised on the hope of the American dream

The promise of progress the promise of better things

Instead, we got Dead-end jobs no stability

The factories all left town all the jobs are gone

The last generation told us to be proud of who we are

But the reality is I'm ashamed of who I am

They used to drive their old Chevys and make them roar

And I'm drivin' an electric car and it's all so silent

Red lights glint on asphalt scars

Empty factories watch from afar

Ghost of chrome steel still sings

Detroit cries where hope used to cling

She stood like fire against the night

Eyes like promises burning bright

Linger there in the city's decay

A whisper of belief chase the grey

Motor City spark in the dark

Broken roads still hung done fall apart

Rust crumbles dreams but we still try

We'll find tomorrow where engines lie

He spoke of days when engines roared

When Dreams and grit streets adorned

Now silent wheels but he won't cower

Looking for more than Detroit's lost power

Her laugh cut through the shadows

A sound so rare among the cold

We rebuilt what the past forgot rubble and ash

We tied the knot

The fellowship hall was crowded

Standing room along the wall

Faces from a hundred places

I didn't recognize at all

They'll tell you all about the places

And the important things you've done

But I remember muddy sneakers

Down by the river in the sun

The coaches bragged about his numbers

Every Friday in the fall

Teachers circled every weakness

Like his strengths meant nothing at all

They'll tell you all about the places

And the important things you've done

But I remember muddy sneakers

Down by the river in the sun

Mama waited by the window

Longer than she'd ever say

Dad would change the conversation

Any time you came up that way

Then one winter they were both gone

And the phone quit ringing too

Funny how some roads get longer

When there's nobody halfway through

Rows of white stones stretched forever

Across a hillside dressed in green

Young Airmen folded up a flag

More carefully than I'd ever seen

The preacher talked about your service

Folks spoke of the lives you'd touched

But I remember muddy sneakers

Down by the river in the sun

Nate Brooks could've left for Nashville

Back in nineteen eighty-three

Had a demo everybody swore

Would've gotten him on TV

But his daddy's heart gave out that summer

And the mill was hiring then

So, he traded neon dreams away

For steel-toed boots and overtime again

That old trumpet knew this town

Better than the courthouse bell

But it never found the one song

That could carry him along

Danny shipped out in his dress greens

Trying hard not to shake

Nate found "Amazing Grace"

Before the preacher reached the page.

Everybody knew Nate's number

Whenever they needed a band

Last one stacking up the chairs

Bottle hidden in the stand

That old trumpet knew this town

Better than the courthouse bell

But it never found the one song

That could carry him along

The mill let him go one winter

Then the hardware store next spring

Folks stopped asking where he worked

And only asked if he'd still sing

Half a bottle by the windowsill

Ashes in an empty tray

The trumpet case beside the heater

Dust where music used to lay

Mail piled up behind the screen door

Snow drifted to the steps

A FOR RENT sign in the front yard

Crooked where the wind had swept

Auction tags on kitchen chairs

Dust where pictures used to hang

The pawn shop got the trumpet

And a box of photographs and names

It could make the whole town dance

It could make a soldier cry

It could turn a Saturday night

Into the best night of your life

But it never found the one song

That could carry him along

Now that old pawn shop trumpet

Waits for someone else's song

Dinner comes in cardboard, bright colors, empty truth

We feed ourselves convenience and call it living proof

Jack eats fast and silent, Lena drifts behind her screen

And I watch us fade together under supermarket sheen

The ceiling fan spins slowly like a tired carousel,

And the quiet in this kitchen is a story we don’t tell

We’re processed hearts, wrapped in plastic, sold on shelves

Trying to taste something real in a world that starves itself

We’re processed hearts, running low on what we need

If love’s the only nourishment, why’s it so hard to feed?

I wash the plastic dishes, watch the grease swirl down the drain

Feels like everything we’re eating feeds our hunger, not our pain

Jack stares at the TV where the news screams like a storm

And Lena hides in headphones trying to feel warm

I want to cook a real meal, something slow and full of care

But time slips through my fingers like steam in winter air

We’re processed hearts, wrapped in plastic, sold on shelves

Trying to taste something real in a world that starves itself

We’re processed hearts, running low on what we need

If love’s the only nourishment, why’s it so hard to feed?

Still, I set the table nightly like a ritual of hope

Trying to keep this family from sliding down the slope

I light a candle sometimes just to see their faces glow

To remind myself that love still lives beneath the undertow

We’re battered by the world outside, but here’s the truth I’ve found

Even processed hearts can beat again if someone keeps them sound

Oh, somewhere past the strip malls

Where the fields still breathe and grow

There’s a table set for healing

In the quiet evening glow

But tonight we’re holding steady

In the only home we know

We’re processed hearts, wrapped in plastic, sold on shelves

Trying to taste something real in a world that starves itself

We’re processed hearts, running low on what we need

If love’s the only nourishment, why’s it so hard to feed?

Tasha walks through life with armor on, eyes sharp as busted glass

Every man’s a warning sign, every smile a risk to pass

She's carried wounds from battles fought in kitchens, bars, and beds

And learned to trust the quiet more than anything that’s said

But some nights when the moon hangs low like a lantern in the rain

She feels the weight of all the years I spent outrunning pain

Read receipts and no replies, hearts too scared to bleed

Two people wanting something real but afraid of what they need

Closed curtains and deadbolts, guarding wounds we never show

Maybe love’s a battlefield, but we’re tired of letting go

Ray keeps his phone face‑down at night like a loaded gun on the table

He wants to trust, but every story says love just ain’t stable

He's seen good men lose their footing, seen good women lose their fire

And learned to guard his heart like a thief guards his desire

But when he sees you standing there with your armor shining bright

He wonders if two wounded souls could make something right

Read receipts and no replies, hearts too scared to bleed

Two people wanting something real but afraid of what they need

Closed curtains and deadbolts, guarding wounds we never show

Maybe love’s a battlefield, but we’re tired of letting go

Maybe there’s a crack somewhere, a place where light gets through

A moment when the shields come down and something real breaks through

Two wounded hearts in hiding, afraid of what they lack

But maybe if we trust a little, we can get our futures back

And though the world’s grown sharp and bitter, here’s the truth we both can see

Even curtains drawn and hearts locked tight can’t stop what’s meant to be

Oh, somewhere past the wreckage

Where the night gives way to grace

There’s a chance we haven’t taken

There’s a life we’ve yet to face

And if we walk there together

We might finally leave this place

Read receipts and no replies, hearts too scared to bleed

Two people wanting something real but afraid of what they need

Closed curtains and deadbolts, guarding wounds we never show

Maybe love’s a battlefield, but we’re tired of letting go

Dust hangs in the window light

Like it has for forty years

Beside the photographs of Little League teams

And county fair volunteers

Tommy sat in chair number three

Same place every month for years

Last week his grandson took his spot

Talking college and a baseball career

Sam ain’t much for giving speeches

Ain't much for telling folks what's right

But he'll listen while you're talking

And that counts for something tonight

Down at Sam's Barbershop

Where the clippers softly hum

Watching boys become old men

And wondering where the years have gone

Some come in for a haircut

Some come in just to talk

Down at Sam's Barbershop

The door stays unlocked

Danny Mercer used to sit there

Talking baseball and summer dreams

Back when every road led somewhere

Or at least that's how it seemed

Once somebody asked him why

He never packed up and moved away

Sam said, "Some folks spend their whole lives

Trying to leave yesterday"

Everybody's carrying something

Most folks never let it show

Funny what gets said out loud

When you've got nowhere else to go

Down at Sam's Barbershop

Where the clippers softly hum

Watching boys become old men

And wondering where the years have gone

Some come in for a haircut

Some come in just to talk

Down at Sam's Barbershop

The door stays unlocked

The pharmacy’s a nail salon

The movie house a church

The hardware store where Frank bought bolts

Closed down on the first of March

But Sam still sweeps the floor each evening

Puts the scissors back in place

Like he's tending something bigger

Than a business in this place

Down at Sam's Barbershop

Where the clippers softly hum

Watching boys become old men

And wondering where the years have gone

Some come in for a haircut

Some come in just to talk

Down at Sam's Barbershop

The door stays unlocked

Ronnie Burke locks the side door

At a quarter after ten

The parking lot’s already empty

The day’s gone home again

He pushes down the silent hallway

Past the trophy case and glass

Where photographs of smiling seniors

Watch another year go past

These silent hallways

Remember who we were

Every locker tells a story

Every trophy hides a face

He stops a while for coffee

Pulls an old postcard from his coat

Yellowstone across the front

Thirty summers old

Ronnie straightens crooked yearbooks

Names he’s almost learned by heart

Some bring children when they visit

Some come back with hair turned gray

Danny Mercer wore number seven

Back when the bleachers shook the night

Blue confetti in the corners

Long after everybody left

Now the banners hang a little faded

The cheers are echoes in the gym

A whole lifetime slips away

Before you know where it’s been

These silent hallways

Remember who we were

Every locker tells a story

Every trophy hides a face

City’s uiet past midnight, just the hum of distant cars,

Maria’s sleeping softly, Lena’s dreaming under stars

I sit alone in blackness thinking how we made it through

A world wired up to break us, but somehow we still grew

The bills, the fights, the fear — all the nights we barely spoke

But love’s a stubborn ember that survives beneath the smoke

Don't give up to darkness, there's a spark that won’t burn out

A whisper in the silence when the world is full of doubt

Can hope endure, even when the night feels long

If love can survive this madness, maybe we’ve been strong all along

I think of Ray out driving, chasing wages down the line

And Tasha with her armor built from heartbreak over time

I think of Lena drifting through a world she can’t escape

And Maria stitching up her home with hands that never break

We’re battered by the storms that tear through every street and park

But there’s a fire in our chests that still glows against the dark

Don't give up to darkness, there's a spark that won’t burn out

A whisper in the silence when the world is full of doubt

Can hope endure, even when the night feels long

If love can survive this madness, maybe we’ve been strong all along

Jack rises and walks the hallway, touches the doors of those he loves

Whisper prayers to no one or maybe someone up above

The world outside is burning, but inside this fragile spark

There’s a family still surviving, and a reason in the dark

And though the night feels endless, here’s the truth that's plain to see

Dignity ain’t something given — it’s something earned when nobody is looking

Oh, somewhere past the sunrise

Where the shadows fall apart

There’s a road that leads to mercy

For the weary and the scarred

And until that dawn comes calling

We’ll keep fighting in the dark

Don't give up to darkness, there's a spark that won’t burn out

A whisper in the silence when the world is full of doubt

Can hope endure, even when the night feels long

If love can survive this madness, maybe we’ve been strong all along

Bills stacked like tombstones on the table by the door

Interest creeping through the cracks like mold across the floor

Maria asks me softly, "Jack, will we ever get ahead?"

I lie and say “next summer,” though I fear the truth instead

The car needs new suspension, Lena’s braces cost a ton

Feels like every step we’re taking is a race we’ve never won

Subscriptions always buzzing, and they ain’t something born of men

They're the algorithm watching, a battle I can’t win

They dangle shiny credit cards while holding my credit score in chains

They’re the future wired around me and my past that still remains

I work the warehouse graveyard shift where the forklifts groan like beasts

And the PA robo-voice cuts through the dark like a sermon for the least

I watch the younger guys move fast, their backs still strong and sure

While mine aches like a warning from a future I can’t cure

I punch the clock and pray the numbers somehow start to bend

But the subscription shadows stretch longer without end

Subscriptions always buzzing, and they ain’t something born of men

They're the algorithm watching, a battle I can’t win

They dangle shiny credit cards while holding my credit score in chains

They’re the future wired around me and my past that still remains

Some nights I dream of running far, to a place where numbers fade

Where life ain’t measured monthly and hope ain’t something paid

But morning brings the letters with their cold mechanical tone

And I face the day like a soldier marching out alone

Still I lace my boots and stand up straight, though the weight is hard to bear

Because a man don’t lose his dignity unless he gives in to despair

Oh, somewhere past the county line

Where the sky breaks wide and clean

There’s a life I almost tasted

In the spaces in between

But the debt keeps pulling tighter

Like a rope around a dream

Subscriptions always buzzing, and they ain’t something born of men

They're the algorithm watching, a battle I can’t win

They dangle shiny credit cards while holding my credit score in chains

They’re the future wired around me and my past that still remains

Left my soul in the desert sand

Battles fought with blood-stained hands

Came back broken, no parade

A ghost of who I was they say

Thank you, America, empty walls nothing to show

Lost my family my broken home

Is this thank you America?

Echoes screaming in my head

Can't escape the words they said

Deplorable is my new name

Felt honored once now I drown in shame

Is this thank you America?

No safe place I'll ever know

Every shadow my new foe

Is this thank you America?

The flag I wore makes me wonder why

Still, I pray watch brothers die

Now here just surviving breaths

A stranger in this life post death

Jobless, penniless let them state

Like I'm just a burden here

PTSD keeps its grip so tight

Lost in darkness every night

He was always first to football practice, last one folding up the chairs

Stayed behind to help the younger players long after nobody else was there

Shook your hand and looked you in the eye, thanked the driver every ride back home

The kind of kid you’d trust with your wallet, never left a friend to walk alone

Coach kept handing him the captain’s burden, knowing he’d never let it fall

Half the teachers couldn’t stand him, half never stopped believing

Straight A’s where he found a purpose, barely scraping by the rest

He walked home with one old notebook filled with dreams nobody read

They said he’d gone too far, farther than the lines they drew

Too restless for the map they gave him, chasing roads beyond their view

Some folks saw a future leader; others counted every flaw

They said he’d gone too far, too far for this little town

“Know-it-all” echoed through the hallways, “Coach’s favorite” from the stands

Funny how the tallest trees catch the hardest wind

He never learned to nod politely when he knew they weren’t quite right

That old notebook on the kitchen table held the words he’d never said

His brother fit around that supper table like the pictures on the wall

His father sighed, “Why’s everything a battle?” and never saw the fight at all

One chair waited every evening, same old place beside the door

Somehow the house kept feeling smaller every year a little more

They said he’d gone too far, farther than the lines they drew

Too restless for the map they gave him, chasing roads beyond their view

Some folks saw a future leader; others counted every flaw

They said he’d gone too far, too far for this little town

Same old notebook in his hands, bus rolling through the base gate in the rain

Strangers from a hundred hometowns carrying different kinds of pain

Some had grown up chasing cattle, some beneath the city lights

Nobody was asking anybody why they dreamed beyond their sights

For the first time no one questioned why he always pushed so hard

No one rolled their eyes at discipline, no one mistook conviction for arrogance

Funny how a place can find you long before you know its name

Sometimes all it takes is leaving to discover you were never meant to stay

Maybe every road is calling different hearts to different skies

Some are meant to guard one hometown, some are born to cross the lines

Funny how the ones called restless sometimes carry others through

Maybe going just a little too far was exactly what he had to do

They said he’d gone too far, far enough to find his place

Too restless for the map they gave him, chasing roads beyond their view

Some folks saw a future leader; others counted every flaw

They said he’d gone too far, too far for this little town

You left my lying in the rain tonight

Like yesterday’s garbage out of sight

Your words still cut like busted glass

Love was gold now I am the trash

Did you ever mean it when you said my name?

Or was it all a cruel and twisted game?

Trust ripped apart like a paper torn in two

Will I love again if I can’t trust you

The echoes of your laugh still haunt these walls

Dusty pictures hang and watch it all

Every story we built up in pain

Just dashes now in the storm's refrain

I am sinking storm in a raging sea

The way to you keeps drowning me

Nor shore in sight no guiding light

Just faulty star in a broken sky

It's the end of the summer

It's the end of my career

I'm at the end of my rope dear

And it's the end of my good years

It's a wasteland

You don't wanna be there

Once it was all glamour

Now you don't wanna go there

Like my hometown

It's a wasteland

It's the end of the summer

It's the end of my career

I'm at the end of my rope dear

And it's the end of my good years

It's a wasteland

You don't wanna be there

Once it was all glamour

Now you don't wanna go there

Like my hometown

It's a wasteland

There's a photo in my wallet from 1985

I look at it and smile and think "God I was alive"

And I wonder if I'll be

A suburban guy for life

Now it's been

The only thing I've got

It's the end of the summer

It's the end of my career

I'm at the end of my rope dear

And it's the end of my good years

It's a wasteland

You don't wanna be there

Once it was all glamour

Now you don't wanna go there

Like my hometown

It's a wasteland

It's a wasteland

It's a wasteland

It's a wasteland

It's the end of the summer

It's the end of my career

I'm at the end of my rope dear

And it's the end of my good years

It's a wasteland

You don't wanna be there

Once it was all glamour

Now you don't wanna go there

Like my hometown

It's a wasteland