These Woods Don't End | Folk

June 23rd, 2025
Country AI Radio
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Lyrics:

I rode out from Dustmill just past the dawn,
Horse was steady, the trail was long.
Through a forest thick with whisperin’ trees,
Where the daylight broke like fevered dreams.

I kept due west, but the path would bend,
Like the woods were drawn by a restless hand.
Every turn felt too well worn,
And my compass spun like it was torn.

And the wood don’t end, no the wood don’t end,
Voices callin’ like long-lost friends.
Sayin’ “Come on home, just close your eyes,”
But the home they meant was a stranger’s lie.
By the time I saw that open land,
I weren’t the same as the man who began.

The wind spoke names I’d never known,
Old regrets in a haunted tone.
Dropped my canteen in a stream like glass,
Saw my face split down the cracks.

Found a chapel with no roof, just spires of bone,
A preacher weepin’ there all alone.
I saw it all—or maybe dreamed—
Either way, somethin’ in me screamed.

‘Cause the wood don’t end, no the wood don’t end,
It folds you in like a long-lost sin.
It tells you truths you can’t defend,
Then laughs and starts again.
And the man who rode in bold and planned—
He died somewhere in that cursed land.

The trees gave way as the sky turned red,
And silence fell like the world was dead.
The town lights blinked like they’d always been,
Blind to the hell I’d wandered in.

Now I sit real still when dusk rolls ‘round,
Don’t ride no more beyond this town.
They say the woods are just some trees—
But I know what waits beneath the leaves.


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