Carter Fred Eaglesmith

Waffle’s in the morning
Turkey’s in the brain
Desperate boys in windswept fields
Running for the train
Skin soaked revelations
Whiskey before dawn
It won’t be the same now that Carter’s gone

Driving on the stateline
That high and lonesome sound
Wake up on that hilltop
Carter’s in the ground
It makes you kind of hang your head
Cry into the dawn
Cause it won’t be the same now that Carter’s gone

White doves in the heart
I heard somebody say
Nobody’s ever going to play those songs that way again

And I drive through old Kentucky
Tearing through the gears
Trying not to think of him
Through all my Bluegrass tears

Put that guitar beneath the bus
I can’t play another one
They don’t sound the same now that Carter’s gone
Things will never be the same
Now that Carter’s gone