Dust on the Sundial

[Verse 1]
Boot prints fade
In a blood-orange dawn
Coffee gone cold
In a chipped enamel cup
Last match hissing
In a wind that says your name
Every road sign riddled
But it still points back to us
[Chorus]
I’m the shadow on your sundial
Frozen in the high noon heat
Just a rumor in the motel Bible
Pressed between the rust and the mercy
If you ever hear a screen door slam
On a far-off highway dream
That’s me
Walking out again
On the ghost of what we’d be (oh, on the ghost of what we’d be)
[Verse 2]
Your Polaroid curls
In my cracked leather wallet
Colors bled strange
Like a half-remembered spell
I talk to your face
Through a spidered piece of glass
Ask if you’re sleeping
Or if you’re raising hell
[Chorus]
I’m the shadow on your sundial
Frozen in the high noon heat
Just a rumor in the motel Bible
Pressed between the rust and the mercy
If you ever hear a screen door slam
On a far-off highway dream
That’s me
Walking out again
On the ghost of what we’d be (yeah, just a ghost)
[Bridge]
Sky looks close enough to steal
Stars like nails in a coffin lid
I ain’t running from the law out here
I’m running from the things we did
Name etched faint
On a roadside cross
Wind hums low
Like it understands loss
[Chorus]
I’m the shadow on your sundial
Frozen in the high noon heat
Just a rumor in the motel Bible
Pressed between the rust and the mercy
If you ever hear a screen door slam
On a far-off highway dream
That’s me
Walking out again
On the ghost of what we’d be (oh, on the ghost)

folk, Enigmatic outlaw country ballad, slow tempo, male vocals in a deep baritone soaked in plate reverb. Shimmering tremolo guitars weave with a lonesome slide line, brushed snare and distant toms building a slow-burn desert noir atmosphere. Subtle 60s psychedelic folk textures—organ swells, reversed swishes, ghostly backing harmonies—bloom in the chorus while verses stay sparse and haunting., enigmatic, slow, deep, outlaw country