The man looks down at the
board cut from the tree cut long before,
runs a finger along the grain,
takes it all in with the knife that was trained
to make the most of every piece.
Carving into anything he needs.
Chisel flash, wood chips fly,
the man works through the night
everything extra falls away
And then, a new table stands
Nothing left to be learned from yesterday
is over and it's all gone
Up in flames, up in flames,
She and I years ago at a yard
Bought that table for us all,
took it home and it wasn't long before
We started a family of our own
Across that old oak table
I watched our children grow
When the kids were gone so was she
Nothing left to be learned
all because what it was is
I know there's an untold story
Behind everything we can see
Every form builds up and holds
Dragged out back and thrown down tonight
A little kerosene will do it good
For years this table served my family
Now it's good for nothing but burning
What starts whole breaks down
comes crashing to the ground
Parts from a hole out of control
become debris that no one needs
The tables turn, trees are felled,
families fade and go to hell
What once was, now is not,
is at my feet, burning hot
I'm not looking back on what used to be
Nothing left to be learned
Oh, because what it was is
4.7
