Verse
Chalk line snapped blue before the sun came up
Grandfather's plane still shaves the same rough cut
He taught me joints don't lie, the wood remembers weight
Every peg we drove was a promise, not a debt
Six houses burned on Miller Road one bitter year
Only one still standing when the smoke cleared
The one he'd marked with circles cut in oak and rust
Rust like sweat that dried to something close to trust
I was ten with a chisel, hands too small to grip
Watched him carve a wheel above the ridge and never slip
Said a rafter's just a promise turned to timber and to time
Every notch remembers what the fire left behind
Pre-Chorus
So what do you carve when the world keeps trying to take
What do you mark when your hands are all you got to stake
I asked him once if the symbols really work
He said the work's the symbol, that's the truth beneath the dirt
Chorus
Runes in the rafters, hidden where the roofline bends
Every house still standing got a mark that never ends
Not magic, just a memory some hand refused to lose
Runes in the rafters, that's the debt the timber pays in truth
Verse
Now I'm forty with a level and a crew of six
Teach the young ones joints before I teach the rest of it
Rebuilt the Delancy barn after the flood took the frame
Found grandfather's mark still dry beneath the water stain
That's when I learned the wood keeps what the world erased
Cut a new one right beside his, same hand, different face
Insurance don't cover what a symbol's worth
The adjuster laughed, called it superstition since birth
Told him every barn we lost had no mark on the beam
Every mark we cut is a door the fire couldn't lean
Pre-Chorus
So what do you carve when the water's at your door
What do you mark when you're building it once more
He's gone now but the chisel's got his grip inside
The work's the symbol, that's how the dead survive
Chorus
Runes in the rafters, hidden where the roofline bends
Every house still standing got a mark that never ends
Not magic, just a memory some hand refused to lose
Runes in the rafters, that's the debt the timber pays in truth
Bridge
Some nights I don't believe in circles cut in oak
Just old world thinking dressed as something that we spoke
But I carve one anyway before I close the wall
Not for the fire, not the flood, not the miracle at all
I carve it for my daughter, forty with the plane
Wanting proof her father's hands were more than only strain
Chorus
Runes in the rafters, hidden where the roofline bends
Every house still standing got a mark that never ends
Not magic, just a memory some hand refused to lose
Runes in the rafters, that's the debt the timber pays in truth
