"people get ready" written on your desk
your last words became true
the road splits at the last exit
divides the family routes
you were never afraid of dying
but those left behind to weep
have a wall to wail against
and a box from Oregon State Police
my skicoat is a shelter
a companion, and a ghost
guards against the elements
use the sleeve to wipe my nose
when i go down to the crossroads
i know just where to go
there's a crucifix on the shoulder
treadmarks in the snow
he could play a guitar like he was praying to god
he ran 100 miles on a dare
you were visionary, it's true
your blood courses through me too
each new year brings one more without you
i'll meet you on down the road
in all that dark, in all that cold
fixing a fire just for the two of us
i'll be ready...
