Intro
Barn roof groans like a hymn nobody wrote
Grandfather's chisel still living in the beam
Some men left letters, some men left a debt
I found his numbers cut where the swallows nest
Verse
Granary beams stacked black from the smoke of oh-nine
Grandfather marked the wood with a blade, no chalk line
Drought year got a slash, flood year got a cross
Buried two sons in that dirt, carved the cost
Wheat came in thin but the ledger stayed thick
Carved through the winter till his fingers went numb quick
Bank man came sniffing, said the land wasn't worth much
Grandfather said the rafters hold more than a clutch
of a signature — said paper burns, timber don't
Said a mark cut deep is a mark that won't
fade like ink in the rain, fade like a name in a claim
He kept the barn standing through the fire and the shame
Neighbors lost their plots to the auction block cold
Our beams still holding weight, still holding gold
Not the kind you spend, the kind you pass down
Runes in the rafters wearing a crown
Chorus
Runes in the rafters, that's the will I trust
Wood remembers weight long after we turn to dust
Every mark's a harvest, every beam's a bone
Long as the barn stands, we ain't ever alone
Verse
Now I'm stacking pallets in a yard that never sleeps
Same kind of counting, different kind of wheat
Forklift growl instead of thresher's hum
Same old god of numb