Things Beyond the Dirt Road

Intro
(Slow, plucked acoustic guitar in a minor key)
(Sound of wind blowing through pine trees and dry leaves rustling)
(Distant, echoing banjo note)
​[Verse 1]
Five miles off the county line, past the broken timber fence
Lives a quiet stretch of shadow where the wood grows deep and dense
Nearest porch light is a mile away, shining weak and small
Out here when the daylight dies, the darkness claims it all.
I heard the dead leaves crunching soft just outside my windowpane
Not a breath of wind to move 'em, not a single drop of rain.
​[Chorus]
There are things beyond the dirt road that the daylight never shows
Eyes that glow like embers where the mountain laurel grows
Is it Bigfoot in the timber? Is it Mothman in the air?
You can feel 'em watching closer, but there’s nothing standing there.
Yeah, the night belongs to cryptids when October turns to chill
And the shadows start to whisper down in Whispering Pines Hollow hill.
​[Verse 2]
Thought I saw a hulking silhouette beside the old hay barn
Taller than a telephone pole, stretching broad and tall and stark
I reached down for my shotgun, wiped the sweat off of my brow
Turned the yellow flashlight on... but it’s just empty branches now.
Was it a Jackalope that bounded fast, or a Wendigo in the timber pine?
Something shifted in the treeline, sending shivers down my spine.
​[Chorus]
There are things beyond the dirt road that the daylight never shows
Eyes that glow like embers where the mountain laurel grows
Is it Bigfoot in the timber? Is it Mothman in the air?
You can feel 'em watching closer, but there’s nothing standing there.
Yeah, the night belongs to cryptids when October turns to chill
And the shadows start to whisper down in Whispering Pines Hollow hill.
​[Bridge]
(Tempo slows down, sparse acoustic picking, dark low fiddle notes)
You hear a low, unnatural howl echoing cross the ridge
A glimpse of yellow glowing eyes beneath the wooden bridge
You tell yourself it’s just a hound, or a shadow on the wall
But out here in the dark, my friend... you can’t be sure at all.
​[Guitar Solo - Slow, atmospheric pedal steel with weeping minor bends]
​[Chorus]
There are things beyond the dirt road that the daylight never shows
Eyes that glow like embers where the mountain laurel grows
Is it Bigfoot in the timber? Is it Mothman in the air?
You can feel 'em watching closer, but there’s nothing standing there.
Yeah, the night belongs to cryptids when October turns to chill
And the shadows start to whisper down in Whispering Pines Hollow hill.
​[Outro]
(Acoustic guitar fades slowly)
(Sound of dry leaves rustling close, then abruptly stopping)
Just a shadow in the timber...
Or something watching me.
(Single soft, lingering guitar strum)
(Fade to silence)