Songs by
Jacob Greenleaf

Old Man

I've been an old man for most of my life; I've traveled fast along this road I drive

It might be unfair, that I'd want to turn round, since I'm the one who held the hammer down

A viscous liquor in my veins like smoke; icy black water through a half-closed choke

But I remember burning like fire; barefoot in the back-woods out past the wire

The trees they said to me


You don't need a reason to come this way

All will be forgiven at the end of the day

The sum will come to nothing but that's okay with me

You're gonna see that too before you're through

Frost-rime stump in the morning sun; I signed with a bullet from my grandpa's gun

The path we walked, the barren trees, the dog who followed through the frozen leaves

Already that bright morning's washed away; along with everything we did that day

But the chill here in my bones where the river ran; whispered this ballad to the budding man

The river sang to me


It's quiet now, I'm taking my rest; the ticking minutes settle on my chest

Like a sandbag full with the grains of time, pushing curves down on a bending spine

But I will fight until my fight is gone, and I become the earth you walk upon

And the tendrils of the void loosen my strings; and I tumble back into that opening

where I can say to you