Pocket Full of Morning Light
Автор: Virginia Writers Project
Загружено: 2026-02-14
Просмотров: 54
Описание:
@johnnicolay4559
I woke with the sunrise knocking on my door,
Dust on my boots, I was drifting once more,
A crow on the fence sang a ragged refrain,
Every mile ahead smells of promise and rain.
Met a farmer sowing hope in the loam,
Said, “Son, every seed is a small kind of home,”
His hands were cracked like the lines on the land,
But he shook my worries like dust from his hand.
Chorus
This road is wide and the sky is free,
There’s a traveling song calling out to me,
From the fields of wheat to the factory line,
We’re all just walking on borrowed time.
Train wheels humming like a low church choir,
Smoke curling up from a boxcar fire,
A stranger shared bread and a story or two,
Said, “Freedom’s a coat when the night cuts through.”
City lights flicker like coins in a jar,
Promises shining but never too far,
A working man’s laugh in a diner at ten,
Sounds richer than silver in rich men’s dens.
Chorus
Old guitar leaning by a café chair,
Six tired strings but a world of air,
Every chord a question the daylight can’t hide,
“Who owns tomorrow on this long ride?”
Chorus
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