[SPOKEN INTRO — RELAXED, NATURAL] “There’s a little place out in the Texas Hill Country where a woman goes every Sunday evening. Her husband built a table there years ago, underneath an old live oak. She always takes two glasses. This is about the last time she did.” [SOFT FINGERPICKED ACOUSTIC] [VERSE 1] There’s a table ’neath a live oak, Weathered silver in the sun. He built it on a Sunday When the two of them were young. Carved their initials underneath it, Where nobody else could see. Said, “When we’re old, we’ll sit right here— Just you, the hills and me.” Now every Sunday evening She walks that dusty track, Two glasses in her basket— Like he’ll be there when she gets back. A mockingbird starts singing From the live oak overhead. She pours his drink across from hers— “Here’s to you,” she says. [CHORUS] Two glasses on the table, Two places in the shade. One for her to drink from, One for the man who made That old table with his own two hands, Where they watched the daylight fall. She talks to him like he’s still there… Like he never left at all. [VERSE 2] She says, “Your roses made it through July, Though Lord, it’s been some heat. That screen door’s still complaining Every time I let it swing. I finally fixed that kitchen drawer You swore you’d get around to. Your old hat’s hanging by the door… I still can’t move it, too.” [SMALL PAUSE] She laughs. Then looks across the table At that empty patch of shade. “I keep coming here to find you… And I can’t keep living this way.” [GUITAR ONLY] For a moment in the evening light, She sees him sitting there. Same old smile beneath his hat, Silver showing in his hair. And in her mind she hears him— “Darlin’, look at me. You don’t have to stop loving me To finally let me leave.” She whispers, “I don’t know how.” [PAUSE] He smiles. “You already are.” [SOFT FIDDLE ANSWER] [FINAL CHORUS] Two glasses on the table, But she only raises one. “Here’s to all the years we had… And the ones I’ve yet to come.” Sun sinks low across the cedar, Turns those limestone hills to gold. She looks across that old oak table— And she’s sitting there alone. [OUTRO — ALMOST SPOKEN] The mockingbird starts singing. She reaches for his glass… Then stops. Two fingerprints are showing Through the cold mist on the glass. She lays her fingers next to his, Like she had a thousand times. Doesn’t ask how they got there. Doesn’t need a reason why. She just sits there for a moment With the sunset in her eyes. Then whispers, “I think I’m ready now.” [PAUSE] The mockingbird leaves the live oak, Flies out toward the fading light. She leaves his glass there on the table And walks away this time. Halfway down that dusty track, She hears one final song. She stops. [LONG PAUSE] But doesn’t turn around. “Goodbye, my love.” [PAUSE] Then she walks on. [SOFT ACOUSTIC GUITAR RESOLVES NATURALLY]
