mailboxes full of
unopened bills
houses with no curtains
old cars up on blocks
all the stores are empty
all the doors are locked
dark southern skies
no one’s home anymore
no one hears the cry
no one sweeps the floor
man without work
his woman turns away
dark southern skies
and there’s no one left to pray…
empty crib gathers dust
a Bible by the bed
workboots in the corner
with this ring i thee wed
pictures on the wall
dont answer in the night
and empty still looks empty
in the morning light
dark southern skies
no one’s home anymore
no one hears the cry
no one sweeps the floor
man without work
his woman turns away
dark southern skies
there’s no one left to pray….