The Cabin from Farther Along by The Hangman's Son

I know a place where the fire hits the stone.
Where we take hold of everything that we know,
And we throw it away.

And I'll write the words as they fall from your lips.
Like the ashes on the end of your last cigarette,
I'll hold on until we are gone.

We sit 'round the fire the flames fill the night,
The laughter and beer treat us fine.
And those old wooden walls will always remember our time.

Stoke the old wood stove, but watch for the flames
There's no reason for heartache this late,
Cause that old wooden table will always remember our names.

And our lives won't wait.
But the times will change.
Our lives won't wait -
The time for living is here.

There's a distance between each of our lives.
As we walk down our roads will remember each stride,
The times we have had and have gone.

And I'll trace the path through the long fields of grass.
Down past the house to the cabin at last
We'll throw back the worries of time.

We sit 'round the fire the flames fill the night,
The laughter and beer treat us fine.
And those old wooden walls will always remember our time.

Stoke the old wood stove, but watch for the flames
There's no reason for heartache this late,
Cause that old wooden table will always remember our names.

Yes that old wooden table will always remember our names.

• Folk
• Peterborough ON
• The Cabin
• The Hangman's Son
• acoustic
• coming of age
• folk
• home
• indie
• loss
• love
• Peterborough