Padilla's Ledger

[Verse 1]
Padilla's counter, the Tuesday after the fire,
A '68 Telecaster with one dead wire.
A Zippo that smells like gasoline and cheap perfume,
A silver locket that won't close, bought too soon.

[Chorus]
Just tallying the price of the dust,
In yellowed paper and secondhand rust.
Another line in the ledger for a life gone fallow,
Another debt marked paid in the sun's white shadow.

[Verse 2]
A pair of baby shoes, scuffed clean at the toe,
A Polaroid of the Salton Sea from years ago.
The wedding ring feels hollow and light in my hand,
Just fourteen karats of salt in the sand.

[Spoken-Word Interlude]
(A tired female voice, filtered like an old recording)
"He always said this valley gives you two choices... the water or the dust. Just take what you can for 'em. Andale pues... it don't matter now."

[Chorus]
Just tallying the price of the dust,
In yellowed paper and secondhand rust.
Another line in the ledger for a life gone fallow,
Another debt marked paid in the sun's white shadow.

[Bridge]
A whole damn life's irrigation, slow-drip and true,
Now just water rights to a memory nobody can use.
Padilla signs the tag, his own hand starts to shake,
For a love that turned to hardpan before the ground could break.

[Outro]
(A lone, whistled melody, simple and clear, takes over and fades.)