Born on a Monday but I’m living a Sunday afternoon
Lawnchair philosophy will never stop the moon
Portrait of a soldier and a young farm-girl on my wall
63 years and I’m sure they’ve seen it all
Rusty breeze through yellow leaves and the smell of rain
Crooked lines through silver mines lead back to you
Voices ring out among these red hills,
They have told me everything about you.
Desert snowfall never lingers long
Lends a lighter shade to sand, then it’s gone (gone, gone)
One of these days, I’ll return to the pines
Heads will be screaming, we’ll be dreaming of turning back
One too many pennies will lead the train far off track
Walls are rising while machines keep stealing you from you
The bed is now asylum from this heavily-sedated view
Move or stay, move or stay, but don’t disappear
Years have passed, now the time has come to relocate
Voices ring out among these red hills,
They have told me everything about you.
Desert snowfall never lingers long
Lends a lighter shade to sand, then it’s gone (gone, gone)
One of these days, I’ll return to the pines
And probably spend my time wishing for the city
I’ve checked my pockets, no alms for the poor
Just phrases on paper, I wish I had more
I hold you close, like a welcome ghost
And hang onto the letters in everything you say
These broken bones will find their home.
Pull me apart, rebuild as you will
The seasons have a way with the heart
Moments before they triangulate
We will be gone without trail or trace (trace, trace)
One of these days, I’ll return to the pines
credits
from Down to My Last Million,
released January 26, 2019
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Trevor Smith: vocals, electric guitar, acoustic guitar, nylon-string acoustic guitar, bass