Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Well, he came in on the 4:15, clean boots and city dreams,
Talkin’ like a prophet on a mission to redeem.
Said he came for grandma’s funeral, but stayed to find the truth—
About dust, and dirt, and real life, and the hard-earned rural proof.
[Verse 2]
But the night, oh Lord, the night—it crept in like a sin,
With ankle-high varmints scratchin’ ‘round, just itchin’ to get in.
And that old oil lamp, it flickered like a soul on trial,
While he checked the locks and windowpanes every cursed mile.
[Chorus]
He said, “Nature’ll change me, raw and real and wild,”
But the dark changed him quicker than any Sunday school child.
Now bacon brings him back, and coffee holds him fast—
From a night full of beasts and thoughts he thought might be his last.
[Verse 3]
He lay there stiff, breath held tight, like monsters knew his name,
Countin’ heartbeats and creaks, cursing every country game.
Talked big of savin’ sinners, of lightbulbs and of class—
But came out lookin’ like he’d been dragged backwards through broken glass.
[Verse 4]
We smiled like wolves in prayer, watched him stagger toward the smell,
Of a skillet’s sizzling sermon, cooked up fresh from country hell.
And we didn’t say, “Told ya so,” no sir, we just passed the plate—
‘Cause the bacon breaks the spirit down, then builds it back up straight.
[Chorus]
He said, “I’ll bring the light, I’ll show them better ways,”
But by morning light he wore the look of a man who’d seen his grave.
Now coffee calms his jitters, and his tongue forgets to boast—
As he chews on truth in silence and drinks with the Holy Ghost.
[Bridge]
No train’s leavin’ ‘til next week, and the bus slid off the hill,
He’s stuck right here with the cow-shit, the quiet, and the chill.
He won’t ask to leave again, not ‘til dusk comes back to dance—
And even then, we know he’ll give that moonlit stare a chance.
[Verse 5]
‘Cause real ain’t neon lights, or schedules etched in stone,
It’s the way the wind moves secrets through these pine trees all alone.
It’s the crackle of the firewood, the rustle of the leaves,
And the way a man can hear his thoughts once he starts to grieve.
[Chorus - Final]
Yeah, he came here to save us, to bring some kind of plan,
But we just let the dark unmake him, and remake the man.
Now the bacon keeps him breathing, and the coffee holds the line—
And the silence wraps around him like a sermon in the pines.
[Outro]
We won’t ask him what he saw, won’t press him for the tale—
But in his stillness we can feel it:
He’s seen the veil.