Matt Morrell - Old Black Car Lyrics

The box moved on iron wheels
To a hole they dug in the ground
Pulleys strung across the field
To lay his body down

I walked among them
As the sun shown in our eyes
We processed through the garden
In black suits, black ties

It's a long way from New York City by the way these old roads bend
I'm getting out of Tennessee but I'll be back again
The hills are quilts of yellow leaves
There's blue smoke in the air
I cannot see where this road leads
But I guess I'm going there

They wrote his name in the dust
On the hood of an old black car
They stood in the autumn sun
And drank from mason jars

The earth herself was quiet
No voice came from above
No autumn leaves nor violets
No sacrificial doves