Track 6 of the EP Postcards from the Spare Room · 2020
The Road Home Hums at Dusk
by Wren Hallett
“The windows down, the fields gone amber and the radio fading out. It's the closest I've come to a road song.”
acoustic · driving acoustic · pastoral folk · 3:00
Lyrics
The windows down, the fields gone amber The radio low on a station fading out A flask of tea between the seats And not a single thing to worry about We pass the farm with the crooked chimney The pond where the herons stand in line The sky turns peach and then to lilac And every mile feels like a sign The road home hums at dusk A low and easy tune The tyres sing it softly Underneath the rising moon We're not in any hurry Late summer holds us near The road home hums at dusk And everything is clear A porch light blinks beyond the hedgerow Someone is waiting, I can tell The gate swings open on its hinges And the dog knows us well The road home hums at dusk A low and easy tune The tyres sing it softly Underneath the rising moon We're not in any hurry Late summer holds us near The road home hums at dusk And everything is clear Wind in the barley, wind in my hair A little of the day still lingers in the air Every bend a gentle turning Every light a welcome burning The road home hums at dusk A low and easy tune The tyres sing it softly Underneath the rising moon We're not in any hurry Late summer holds us near The road home hums at dusk And everything is clear Hum it, hum it Drive us home Hum it softly Drive us home