Track 7 of the album Hank's Garage, Again · 2026
Boxes Down the Porch Steps
“Dad's old hand truck squeaks across the floor and Mama tapes up the last box by the door. Every move I've made sounded a little like this.”
rock ballad · family ballad · moving-day song · 4:01
Lyrics
Dad's old hand truck squeaks across the floor Mama's taping up the last box by the door Height marks on the pantry frame Pencil lines with all our names I run my thumb along the one that's mine The swing set rusted years ago The garden gate still sticks, you have to know The way to lift it, give a shove Funny what you grow to love The little broken things that held us right Carry it down the porch steps slow Every room has somewhere left to go The house gets quiet, the road gets wide But home is what we carry inside Leave the light on, leave the door unlocked For whoever comes by and knocks We were here, and we were loved Carry it down the porch steps slow The kitchen smells like coffee still Sunday pancakes on the window sill I check the closets one more time Find a marble and a dime And a note I wrote at nine years old Carry it down the porch steps slow Every room has somewhere left to go The house gets quiet, the road gets wide But home is what we carry inside Leave the light on, leave the door unlocked For whoever comes by and knocks We were here, and we were loved Carry it down the porch steps slow Turn the key and hold it tight Hand it to the morning light Mama squeezes my hand once No words, none needed, none at all Carry it down the porch steps slow Every room has somewhere left to go The house gets quiet, the road gets wide But home is what we carry inside Leave the light on, leave the door unlocked For whoever comes by and knocks We were here, and we were loved Carry it down the porch steps slow Carry it down the porch steps slow Porch light burning as we go