Dowel Pin

[Verse 1]
This half-moon ridge on my left thumb still glows white
under the single workshop bulb at three-oh-nine.
It matches yours, the one you got the summer I turned nine.
Whole place smells like turpentine and a quiet kind of ruin.

[Chorus]
I'm writing you this letter on a receipt for parts
'cause this whole damn house you built is falling apart.
And the silence sounds just like the world's last slow song.

[Verse 2]
Janie's boy is tall now, got your stubborn jaw.
He asked about the scar, and I just couldn't talk.
You always told me, "Measure twice, boy, cut just once."
My hands can set a fender straight, but they can't stop the rust.

[Chorus]
I'm writing you this letter on a receipt for parts
'cause this whole damn house you built is falling apart.
And the silence sounds just like the world's last slow song.

[Bridge]
Did you ever stand here, Dad, and wish the roof would just cave in?
Let the Mississippi rain wash away the sin
of being the only one who knows how to hold it all up?

[Outro]
The dust is settling gold on the unused saw.
Signed, your son.