Music & Vocals by Don Sechelski
usa
folk
americana
christmas
middle east
iraq
war
soldiers
relationships
homelessness
patriotism
Story behind the song
A collaboration between myself and Don as part of a Muse's Muse contest
Lyrics
Grew up in a salt box
On the Carolina shore
Watched him beat my Mama
'Til I could take no more
I gave him what was coming
Both barrels in the chest
Where she hid the body
Is anybody's guess
Hitched my way to Houston
To ride the oil boom
Blew my money doing
What a foolish man will do
Loved a yellow rose
Who drained me to the bone
Found herself a rich man
And dropped me like a stone
The road never rises to meet me
The wind never drives at my back
But the distant horizon's
Not the end of the line (and)
The world isn't flat
No, the world isn't flat
Days I don't remember
Nights I can't forget
Wasted years and whiskey
Are the least of my regret
Made it home one winter
Too late to say goodbye
Now, I stop and listen
When a weeping willow cries
This old world can turn without a sound
Never revving up, never slowing down
Tomorrow, if I'm lucky, another go around
As long as my feet keep on hitting solid ground
The road never rises to meet me
The wind never drives at my back
But the distant horizon's
Not the end of the line (and)
The world isn't flat
No, The world isn't flat
There's an empty salt box
On the Carolina shore
The world comes to an end there
No turning back, no more