Intro
Gatehouse creaks like a knee that's seen too much frost
Lantern swings slow over names that the river crossed
Verse
Grandfather kept the ledger, ink gone brown as the planks
Wrote the same line twice for the men who never said thanks
Toll was a nickel then, blood was worth about the same
He'd wave the widows through and mark it down as a name
Father took the post when the flood took both his hands
Learned to count by lantern light, learned the weight of plans
I was six when I first held the gate key in my palm
Felt it hum like a hymn, felt the river holding calm
They said the bridge don't break for kin, only for the greed
Every plank's a promise that we nailed instead of freed
Ice forms on the rail like a crown we didn't earn
Wind tries to strip the paint but the toll box still burns
I count the coins at midnight, stack them like a psalm
Every crossing that I clear is a debt I carry calm
Same brown ink, same river, same unyielding land
Same key passed down heavier in every steady hand
Hook
This the kinsman's toll, paid in coin and cold
Every gate we open costs a story to be told
Blood in the ledger, names cut in the wood
Nobody crosses free, that's the toll we hold for good
Verse
Now the county wants to buy the gate and tear the post
Say the bridge is outdated, say the toll's a ghost
But I still light the lantern every evening at five
Been forty years of vigil, kept the ledger alive
Cars line up in silence like they're waiting for grace
I take exact change and look each driver in the face
Some pay with a story 'stead of silver in the tray
Say their mother crossed here fleeing on a rainy day
I mark it in the book beside my father's faded hand
Same brown ink, same river, same unyielding land
They offer me a pension just to walk away for good
I tell them legacy ain't currency, it's understood
Frost cracks the wood but the hinges still comply
I oil them with the patience that my father learned to buy
Toll booth window fogs but I still see clear through
Every soul that passes owes the ones who built it too
Hook
This the kinsman's toll, paid in coin and cold
Every gate we open costs a story to be told
Blood in the ledger, names cut in the wood
Nobody crosses free, that's the toll we hold for good
Bridge
My daughter asks me why we don't just let it fall
I tell her some gates hold history, not cinderblock and wall
Told her every crossing that we clear, someone fought hard
So the next one wouldn't drown out back behind the yard
She's got the ledger now, her handwriting is neat
First entry reads "no debt too old to greet"
I handed her the lantern when my knees gave out to age
Told her the flame's inheritance, never was a wage
Outro
Bridge still stands, gate still swings
Toll gets paid for everything
Kinsman's toll, that's the price of ground
