It’s a quick light and a slow burn / A little wink and a half turn / And gone (Jeffrey Foucault)

Train station, I know you all too well / From the boarding we all came and fell / Into your room / The tracks raced beneath our feat / Through square windows, so clean / Well I could see them walking away (Gregory Alan Isakov)

Traveling through the graveyard with a suitcase full of sparks / Honey, I’m just trying to find my way to you / Lit up every campfire I found out in the dark / Oh, I cut down all the cottonwoods (Gregory Alan Isakov)