Henbit Season

[Verse 1]
The blue chalk line you snapped on the king post
Is covered in a fine coat of mullein dust.
It’s the first warm week of henbit season
And the well water’s carrying a taste of rust.
You watch a thunderhead build over the ridge,
Say nothing ‘bout the crack in the foundation stone.

[Chorus]
If I were to ask you, right here in the quiet,
Would the answer be a truth I’ve always known?

[Verse 2]
Your hammer rings on a chert-veined stone,
A different measure from the one I first heard.
“'Hand me that level,' is all that you say.”
And I pass it to you without a word.
The creek mud is cool under my bare feet,
Same spot I used to come when I felt small.

[Chorus]
If I were to ask you, right here in the quiet,
Would the answer be a truth I’ve always known?

[Bridge]
This wild hog-peanut vine's got a root in the clay,
It wraps around a good wall 'til it all gives way.

[Outro]
That blue chalk line's still there on the king post.
The air tastes like it did just before the flood.