Intro
Three a.m., house breathing slow like it's still alive
Floor remembers weight before the weight arrives
Grandma's nail heads catching light like little eyes
Every board a witness that refused to testify
Verse
Grandma kept a hammer and a Bible on one nail
Said the Good Book bends before the pine will ever fail
Nineteen thirty-something, when the banks closed every door
She pulled the plank up gentle, laid the silver on the floor
Wrapped it all in muslin, sealed the seam with tar
Told us floor's a ledger and every crack's a scar
Carved a cross beside a circle, said the mark was old
Kept the hunger honest, kept the winter's reach controlled
Preacher called it heathen, she just smiled and swept
Said a debt unspoken is a debt nobody's kept
Flood came in the spring and drowned the whole first floor
Boards held tight above the water, kept us near the door
She never told the deed man what she buried in that plank
Said the only bank worth trusting doesn't call itself a bank
Died before she told us every mark and what it meant
Left the house still standing where the current should've bent