Intro
Chalk dust and kerosene, that's how the count began
Every mark on the beam was a name, was a man
Verse
Great-granddad checked the cargo off a dock in the dark
Wrote his own alphabet so the foreman missed the mark
Symbol for a short shift, symbol for a lie
Slash across the crate meant the scale was set too high
They docked his pay in silence, so he docked it back in code
Turned a busted ledger to a language on the road
Taught his boy the runes before he taught him how to read
Said the ink don't lie, only men do when they're greedy
Thirty years of tally marks pressed into the spine
Every crooked sum got settled somewhere down the line
Kept the book under floorboards, wrapped in oiled cloth
Said a man who loses count is a man who's already lost
Died with chalk still on his fingers, ash under his nail
Left the ledger to his son like a torch, like a trail
Said read it slow, the numbers carry weight
Every mark's a mouth that