Gravel Rite

[Verse 1]
(spoken)
That little brass compass from Grandma's junk drawer.
You hold it out flat on your palm in the carport.
"Which way is Phoenix?"
I point past the kudzu, past the rusted swing set.
The needle shivers, then settles on west.
Your nail's caked with the red West Virginia dirt.

[Chorus]
(sung)
We're saying goodbye to the goodbye
Practicing the ache before it's real
We bury the needle in the garden
So it remembers how to feel

[Verse 2]
(spoken)
You dig with your hands by the wilted tomato plants.
"It's just for luck," you say, a crooked half-glance.
Like that time in October when your car wouldn't start
and we packed your whole life back inside in the dark.
I don't say anything, just watch the dirt fall.
A knot in my throat, that's all.

[Chorus]
(sung)
We're saying goodbye to the goodbye
Practicing the ache before it's real
We bury the needle in the garden
So it remembers how to feel

[Bridge]
(sung)
This is how we mend the distance, a temporary seam
Stitching you to this damp earth inside a waking dream
I'm just so afraid this one time, the thread won't hold the pull
And the silence on the phone line will finally be full

[Outro]
(spoken)
Your taillights bleed down the gravel drive.
The screen door catches, then it slams.