Iron and Wine
Pushing the screen door
With the rusty brown latch and spring coil
Making that "Oh so home" sound.
To the front yard with the black walnut tree
And the porch that sags just a bit on the right
Since the foundation was never properly mended.
"Ma'm" and "Please" - "Thank you" and "How Kind"
Litter our mouths as we taste
What could only be the sweet words
Of southern anthems sprinkled in northern education.
Grasshoppers and lightening bugs
Entertain our nightly stage as
Lemonade dressed with Iced Tea
Lines the ideas of the evening.
Nightly news and stock markets must be for other people.
Sugar spilt on the counter
Doesn't make its way to cloth.
Somehow cornbread from dinner becomes dessert.
And what doesn't ring true,
Doesn't make a sound.
Blood and oceans replace Christ and stars,
And time senses that it matters less.
Barefoot outside to the feed the dogs,
The grass sticks to your feet.
On your way in - you sigh at the chipped paint
Where little ones once drew their name.
Your mother is on hold on the phone
Upside down on the kitchen island
Next to tomorrow's chicken
Covered by a tea towel.
She wants to know how you are doing.
This is how Sam Beam sounds to me.
