Receipt by The Porchlight

(hummmm) Porch light on

Red gravel road

Fading yellow

paper

in my palm

No reason to keep it

But I still do

Oh, we burn down to the wood Yeah,

we fold up like we should Leaving nothing but the static On

the night-wave dial (ohhh)

One porch bulb

Grey gravel driveway

I find the receipt

from that cold July

Just a faded print

of ordinary life

Oh, we burn down to the wood Yeah,

we fold up like we should Leaving nothing but the static

On the night-wave dial (ohhh,

on the dial)

Just a paper slip

In the quiet dark...