Standing on a street corner,
Waiting for the last bus out of town
Because I missed the one I should be on,
So I will take this one instead.
And I look up and watch the colors blur,
Green, yellow, then to red,
And try to keep my tired head from falling down
And pray this one will carry me to bed.
The fare home claims the last of my spare change
At three quarters to midnight hour.
The driver watches silently while I
Begin to shuffle down the aisle
To one of many empty seats no one
Has filled in quite a while
And try to hold an awkward smile with all my powers
And watch the hands that keep time to the miles.
Feet return to pavement now,
Stepping off the last bus far behind
The one I missed and though I should on,
And that will never leave my head.
And I look down consulting maps to find
What I have often read:
It's not that path that both have tread, it's only time
And never space that kept me from my bed.
West Virginia country-folk singer-songwriter Trae Sheehan aims to find a balance between the traditional and the modern on his new LP. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 29, 2020
“Write The Soil Lighter” is full of beguilingly mysterious folk-adjacent music, shrouded in shadow and atmospherics. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 30, 2023