Lyrics
[Fingerpicked Acoustic Intro]
The spruce still holds the carved design,
a hollow where the sad notes rest.
[Verse 1]
The grain recalls the bitter freeze,
each ring a year I learned to stand.
The seam runs gold where pressure split,
I trace the bridge with open hand.
Dry rosin dust upon the wood,
the fretboard polished by my thumb.
I tune the bottom copper string,
and let the music come.
[Pre-Chorus]
The soundhole breathes a deeper tone,
the cedar ribcage humming low.
I loosen tension in the neck,
and let the sorrow go.
[Chorus]
The spruce holds every cry.
It turns the heavy grain to singing gold,
a melody the winter cannot hold.
No bitter echo trembling in the sound,
the spruce holds every cry.
[Verse 2]
The morning touches maple sides,
the varnish gleams in amber hue.
I play a cadence calm and slow,
that doesn't ask for you.
The pegs hold steady without slip,
the sixth string rings into the room.
A quiet chord of settled peace,
dispelling all the gloom.
[Chorus]
The spruce holds every cry.
It turns the heavy grain to singing gold,
a melody the winter cannot hold.
No bitter echo trembling in the sound,
the spruce holds every cry.
[Bridge]
Oh, the crack was mended with the gold,
stronger now than when unbroken.
The truest story of the soul,
in quiet resonance unspoken.
[Chorus]
The spruce holds every cry.
It turns the heavy grain to singing gold,
a melody the winter cannot hold.
No bitter echo trembling in the sound,
the spruce holds every cry.
[Acoustic Harmonics Outro]
Dry rosin dust upon the wood...
The spruce holds every cry.
[Fade Out]
[End]