Ghost on the Claim

[Verse 1]
Dry creek bed
Moon like a busted plate
Pickaxe
Pan
He was workin’ late
Boot steps crunch
Someone stalkin’ close behind
One dull thud
Gold dust in another man’s eyes
[Chorus]
There’s a ghost on the claim
And he’s callin’ your name (hey)
Cold wind rattles through your frame
You took his ground
Now he’s takin’ you down
That ghost on the claim
Got perfect aim
[Verse 2]
You weighed that pouch
In the lamplight of your shack
Whiskey glass
Turned the whole sky black
Window frost
Drew a face you knew too well
Mud‑caked hat
Drippin’ river water and hell
[Chorus]
There’s a ghost on the claim
And he’s callin’ your name (oh)
Cold wind rattles through your frame
You took his ground
Now he’s takin’ you down
That ghost on the claim
Got perfect aim
[Bridge]
Shovel in the corner starts to scrape by itself
Cards on the table flip and cut your wealth
Every breath you borrow tastes like dust and lead
Every creak
Every shadow
Says you’re already dead
[Chorus]
There’s a ghost on the claim
And he’s carvin’ your name
Bone‑white letters in the flame
You took his ground
Now he’s takin’ you down
That ghost on the claim
Drags you back where you came
That ghost on the claim
Gets back his claim

Dark Western ballad: male vocals over twangy baritone guitar and brushed snare, slow half-time swing. Harmonica doubles the vocal on the hook; low organ drones in the verses. Chorus swells with stacked gang vocals and stomps, final pass adds reverb‑soaked whistle and distant church bell for a chilling fade.