7_1_2025

Wickedjohnandthedevil

Everyone is writing songs inside their heads
Waking up from sleeping in their unmade beds
I cleared out space in springtime to make room for the fall
I wrote you words of kindness, but I won’t speak them at all

The kudzu choked the hillside, the bees nest on the porch
The light I’ve kept alive for you, my own clandestine torch
So when you see the clouds form, when you can smell the pine
Just after the rain falls, remember you were mine

And I was yours