[Intro | Mechanical loom clatter, rhythmic, then abrupt stop — silence — crickets] [Verse 1 | 1A close croon] I learned to read your lips across the floor Where the shuttles flew too loud for words to carry You'd shape the word "later" through the cotton snow And I'd shape back "always" — that was all it took to marry [Verse 2] Twelve hours at the frames and your hands were full of lint And your eyes were blue as chambray with a sideways glint Then September came and every mill hand laid it down And the whistle didn't blow across the whole mill town [Chorus | Falsetto harmonies, crickets under] When the looms go quiet I can hear you breathe I can hear the crickets in the sourwood leaves I can hear the river and the clock upon the wall When the looms go quiet I can hear it all [Verse 3] On the porch that first still evening with the strikers singing low You said my name out loud, the first time in a year Not across the roaring room — just here, just slow And I didn't know a voice could be that near [Verse 4 | darker, pad drops] Then the word came up the road from Honea Path Seven shot in the back at the mill gate And we held each other's hands like they were all we had And we learned what quiet costs, and what it weighs [Chorus] When the looms go quiet I can hear you breathe I can hear the crickets in the sourwood leaves I can hear the names they never put in stone When the looms go quiet I am not alone [Bridge | Horns and soft sax, low] They fired half the village when the strike was lost We moved our bed and kettle to another mill But you'd still mouth "later" through the frost And I'd still whisper "always," and I still will [Final Verse | sparse, organ] Fifty Septembers in the sourwood leaves And when the last loom stops and they call my name I'll hear you in the quiet — and it'll sound the same [Outro | Crickets alone]
