From the album Crooked Lines
I think I like you more now that you’re busted
It seems life has left us both a little rusted
I remember the days when we could stand up straight
but honestly I like us both better this way.
I was 22 when I bought these 40 acres.
It had a barn, bright red for all to see.
I built it with my hands from rough hewn timber
and it housed my sweetest memories
I took a wife, her name was Mary
with hair as black as the coal that kept us warm
It was in the barn we had our first child
while taking shelter from a storm
It was a storm that came this last December
that pulled a old pine out from the ground
It split the beam and like a puppet with cut strings
the barn came crashing down
I went out at dawn to see the wreckage
I wondered if I’d feel torn down too
As the sun came up, and hit it just right
like it began its life anew
The barn will slowly gather dust
and I feel it in my bones so have I
but we have stories to tell about a life lived well
for those who have the time
Mary passed now 5 years ago
and my son has moved away
My hands can’t do what they did before
So I try to remember those days
That barn and I had been through hard times
the wood, my face are weathered just the same
If I could forgive that barn for giving way
I could forgive myself for just the same.