on a highway headed home,
there stands abandoned farms
and homesteads from the past.
And I can see all the families
that once lived in that place
They built their future strong,
now they're gone without a trace
And the story of the houses
are written in their windows
and no lights left there to glow
And the dirt lanes all roll over
That ran just past the front porch
cause there's no one coming
The farmer with his weathered hands
once mended all the gates
While his wife turned the tender sow
Are written in their windows
No lights left there to glow
And the dirt lanes all grown over
The front porch, it don't matter
The tractor sits behind the barn
The old fields to plow or harvest
and guarded it for years,
one night they closed their eyes
And the story of the houses
are written in their windows
and no lights left there to glow.
And the dirt lane's all grown over
That ran just past the front porch
cause there's no one comin'
4.7
