Counting Fences

[Verse 1] – [half-time feel, building tension]
Three roads out of this valley town
I took the one where the sun went down
Passed the church with the broken bell
Passed the well where the bracken swells
Same fence post. Same rusted wire.
Same patch of mud that swallows fire.

[Chorus] – [full gallop, breathless delivery]
Counting fences, losing count
The horse don't tire, the rider don't shout
Counting fences, losing my mind
Same oak tree for the third damn time
Counting fences—
[gasp]
Where's the gate?

[Verse 2] – [even faster, words tripping over each other]
I threw my watch. I threw my keys.
I threw a handful of family trees.
Nothing stops her. Nothing slows.
She doesn't even blink — she doesn't have a nose.
I'd pray but my throat's too dry
And God's just a word the living say goodbye with.

[Chorus] – [frantic, fiddle screeching]
Counting fences, losing count
The horse don't tire, the rider don't shout
Counting fences, losing my mind
Same dead crow for the third damn time
Counting fences—
[whispered, terrified]
The gate's still not there.

[Bridge] – [sudden silence except voice + one repeating guitar harmonic]
I hear her whisper something low
Sounded like my name… but also like no.
She taps my shoulder. I don't turn around.
[beat]
That's the last sound.

[Outro] – [music explodes back in for 4 bars, then stops mid-beat]
Counting fences counting fences counting fences counting—
[whip crack]
[sound of a body hitting dirt]
[hooves fading into crickets]

Gothic Country, Dark Folk, female, 140 BPM, Fiddle or bowed banjo playing frantic, repeating two-note figure