Jason Isbell
When You’re Gone
I've learned exactly which of the floorboards groan
And how the AC exhales when it kicks on
So? I've been losing sleep
I swear I heard the lilies bend, then bloom, then weep
I wouldn't call it silent
It's a different kind of quiet
When you're gone
When you're gone
I start at the ice machine's dark art
My eyes go for the door, my hand to my heart
I've gotten used to Tennessee
The way the night sounds and the way the trees creak
I wouldn't call it silent
It's a different kind of quiet
When you're gone
When you're gone
I wouldn't call it silent
It's a different kind of quiet
When you're gone
When you're gone
The garden calls to me, my roses in the rain
The poses I maintain to seem strong
I force the time to pass until you're back again
To block the wind that blows right through my bones
I wouldn't call it silent
It's a different kind of quiet
When you're gone
When you're gone
I wouldn't call it silent
It's a different kind of quiet
When you're gone
When you're gone