Intro
Kept a hatch beneath the kitchen where the pine boards meet
Every mark's a memory the mortgage couldn't keep
Some men trust a Bible, some a lawyer, some a bank
I trust the grain of wood my great-grandfather sank
Verse
Granddad worked the coal face, lungs stitched with dust and grime
Fourteen hours under earth, paid in scrip he couldn't spend on time
Company owned the store, the church, the water and the light
So he built his own economy in secret every night
Pulled the boards up in the kitchen when the family went to bed
Scratched a line for every dollar that the ledger never said
Circle for a birth, a cross for a brother turned to stone
Triangle for winters that he made it through alone
Wife thought it was superstition, some old country rite
He said counting keeps the counting man from taking what ain't right
Thirty years of marks beneath the pine before he passed
Told my father find them, read them, make the next mark last
Father added seventeen before the mill closed down the gate
Said a man who tracks his debts will never owe past what he's paid
I was seven when I found the hatch beneath the kitchen chair
Didn't know the symbols yet, but I could feel the prayer
Chorus
Runes under the floorboard, one for every year
Carved by lamplight when the collectors wouldn't hear
Some for hunger, some for luck, some for the ones we lost
Legend ain't a title, it's a symbol for the cost
Verse
Now I'm twenty-six and grown, got my own boards to lift
City rent's the new coal company, same collector, sharper script
Kept my own ledger folded in a Bible on the shelf
Mark for every hustle that could've buried me myself
Two for every time the block ran red before the dawn
One for every partner who got faded, moved, or gone
Learned to carve my grief in silence, no eulogy, no speech
Every scar's a syllable in a language none can te