BAYOU STATIC

Every road I wander winds me back again,
Like the marshlands got a hole buried in my skin.
Biostatic frequencies through my bones,
Voices in the low tide calling me back home.
Biostatic humming through the night,
Something in the distance burning through the pines tonight.
River boat engines groaning somewhere out of sight,
Rust red antennas glowing in the lightning light.
Mosquito choir singing in the thick damp air,
Dead stations drifting like a prayer from nowhere.
I tried to outrun it up beyond the county line,
But every empty highway carried back the same sign.
There's a pulse beneath the mud, steady as a drum,
Like the dark keeps whispering where I'm really from.
Biostatic frequencies through my bones,