From the album Common Lot

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Jimmy Dowling: Vocals, Acoustic Guitar
Garrett Costigan: Dobro
Andy Baylor: Fiddle
Roger Bergodaz: Backing Vocals

Lyrics

No secrets to a comfortable feeling
following rhetorical questions.
Drifting home catching yourself in a window
chuckling sigh, one eyed conversation,
but who’ll remember?
The moon through the bows and the low of the cows.
In my pocket lies a letter.
The hinge it squeaks and whistles as it creaks
something for the wind to send her.

She collected worn feathers
bleached driftwood and shells.
Rusty dog spikes and old bottles with painted labels.
But something caught up on me
for time always tells.
There is a charm to a flat note
among the peeling of bells.

There’s one that can smile you away.
Just stands there waving
while you go ‘round the bend’n
use up on someone else
whatever it is you’ve been saving.
But I was asleep at the switch
got in a state.
taken to town straight through an open gate.
Fumbling with an ashtray
smoking over whiskey in the middle of the day.
Turned into a cardboard cut out
with the same old nothing to say.

There’s one that can smile you away.
Just stands there waving
while you go ‘round the bend’n
use up on someone else
whatever it is you’ve been saving.

Walked out the door back across the line.
She closed it and stood in the hallway this time.
Looking down at her collection of driftwood and shells
rusty dog spikes and broken bottles with painted labels.