[INTRO — spoken, dry] I have been to every town between the salt flats and the river bend. They always let me in. [VERSE 1] I come in on a Tuesday Before the weather breaks I take a room above the tavern I smile at what it takes The children wave from porches The baker learns my name By Thursday I am family By Friday I have fed [CHORUS] I leave a town a little lighter Something warm has gone to ground I leave a town a little quieter Something sure has come unwound [VERSE 2] I eat the thing that anchors you The ease you didn't name The feeling that the dark outside Is not the dark that came I eat the long familiarity The knowing where you stand I leave the walls, I leave the children I leave the shaking hands [CHORUS] I leave a town a little lighter Something warm has gone to ground I leave a town a little quieter Something sure has come unwound [VERSE 3] They'll say it was a cold snap They'll say it was the moon They'll say a dog went missing They'll say it happened soon After the stranger left town They'll name the thing I took They'll carve it into something Give it teeth and give it eyes [BRIDGE — sarangi ascending, nyckelharpa sympathetic ring sustaining] The stories will outlast me By a hundred years or more A name, a shape, a warning Hung crooked on the door I never had a shape to give them I never had a face I only had an appetite And an open road and space [OUTRO — spoken, single oud notes dying between words] Next town is three days east. They have not heard of me yet. I am looking forward to the baker. I always like the baker.
