Last Ridge Line

[Verse 1]
The phone line hummed, a desert wind through ancient wire,
You spoke of timber, dust, and holding on, my final fire.
Said, "Son, that porch rail's seen a hundred seasons turn,
Needs shoring up, before the whole damn thing can burn.
A fault line runnin' through the wood, a story left unspun."

[Chorus]
That old porch railing, Dad, a whisper in the stone,
Your last words echo, never truly gone.
A weathered timber memory, etched deep in my soul,
Making the fractured landscape whole.

[Verse 2]
I see the sun-baked adobe, where the saguaro stands tall,
Your voice like water, after years of drought, through barren wall.
Talking 'bout the grain, the way the splinters catch the light,
Holding onto something solid, in the fading desert night.
Like ancient riverbeds, your words carved pathways in my mind.

[Chorus]
That old porch railing, Dad, a whisper in the stone,
Your last words echo, never truly gone.
A weathered timber memory, etched deep in my soul,
Making the fractured landscape whole.

[Bridge]
The words you left me, like petroglyphs on canyon side,
A blueprint carved in bedrock, where your wisdom will reside.
That porch, a sentinel, where your spirit still can roam,
Connecting distant mesas, bringing me back home.
A silent testament to a love that time cannot erode.

[Chorus]
That old porch railing, Dad, a whisper in the stone,
Your last words echo, never truly gone.
A weathered timber memory, etched deep in my soul,
Making the fractured landscape whole.

[Outro]
That old porch railing, Dad, a whisper in the stone,
Your last words echo, never truly gone.