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Bones of My Beloved

from Home by Nathan Evans Fox

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lyrics

Miss my friends,
Miss they way that they love me,
Miss the sweetness of whiskey, miss the mourner’s gin.
Miss my home,
Miss the way them mountains hold me,
Miss the virtues of the morning, miss the nighttimes sins.

I made my own way to New York,
Followed a storm to Houston,
In all of my wandering I have made my own bed,
So lay the bones of my beloved at the feet of my friends,
For home is now the place where all my friends live.

Miss that rolling river,
Miss that generous giver,
Winding like the snake of love through them clearcut woods where the devil’s camp set up.
Miss that rolling thunder,
Miss that fire upon the mountain,
Shaking like an empty grave on that judgement day when the Resurrection comes.

Somewhere between right and wrong
There’s a place where my friends belong,
There’s a fiery sword on the threshing floor
And a river that we must ford.
So I will raise my Ebenezer to consecrate all of my leaving,
For it’s by thy help now that we’re on our own.

Valley of dry bones, dry bones,
This place was never our home.
With the smoke we rose from the burning oaks that our fathers’ alters stoked.
Left behind a graveyard,
Left behind them crystal country stars
Left to find another way to say the same damn thing about who the hell we are.

credits

from Home, released February 1, 2017

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Nathan Evans Fox Nashville, Tennessee

Born and raised in western North Carolina, Nathan Evans Fox writes songs that sound the way gas stations feel. When it comes to Nathan’s approach, Americana Highways writes, “It’s not cornpone, it’s not alt-country, country-western, or pop-country. Fox has a solid hold on a serious genre of country seldom covered by many artists. It cuts through the commerciality of country music.”

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