Five Hundred Miles of Iron

Yellow beam cuts through the dusty yard
Loose stones grind beneath our heavy boots
The paper rests upon the wooden board
We drink to what we cannot break or loose

Cheap vintage burning at the back of throat
You press the steel between my tired hands
Far away the water waits without a boat
While we build fences on this barren land

Five hundred miles of highway call our name
Straight to the docks where heavy freighters sleep
Yet you uncork the dark bottle just the same
Trading the open tide for what we keep

Five hundred miles of iron and black tar
We sign our names into the frozen ground
No harbor lights, no vessel sailing far
Just another year where the wheels go round

The ink runs steady as the shadows lean
A decade written on a single sheet
Turning the gears inside a hard machine
With bitter grape and winter at our feet

Five hundred miles of highway call our name
Straight to the docks where heavy freighters sleep
Yet you uncork the dark bottle just the same
Trading the open tide for what we keep

Five hundred miles of iron and black tar
We sign our names into the frozen ground
No harbor lights, no vessel sailing far
Just another year where the wheels go round

We could have driven past the county line
Let all the engines cool into the dust
Instead we share this bitter glass of wine
And bind our knuckles to the working rust

Five hundred miles of iron and black tar
We sign our names into the frozen ground
No harbor lights, no vessel sailing far
Just another year where the wheels go round