Family Name 

Your mother, she taught you the stars and their shapes

She passed down the stories that gave ‘em their names

The heroes and heathens, their victories and crimes

Still echo from heaven, they call down through time

There on the porch that your grandfather built

Singing the songs that his grandmother sang

There’s a creak in the stairs

And it sounds like the family name

The last of the apple trees died in the cold

30-strong orchard, guess that’s how it goes

A honey crisp high court, a call made in haste

A rot from the inside, a slow fall from grace

Now you're swinging in fights that your father has lost

Bruising your knuckles and pride all the same

Now there’s blood in your mouth

And it tastes like the family name

Tangled in the ties that bind

They stretch across the great divide to hold you close

Tired prayers and lullabies

And all the sins you tried to hide and all the hurt you never chose

Forget-me-nots and columbines

The willow trees and kudzu vines

You never forge a path on your own

We reap the things our ancestors sowed 

It’s there in the songs that she taught you to sing

And there in the bruises and scars just the same

It’s the love and the fights

All the sorrow and pride, all the joy and the pain

It’s the sun on your skin

And it feels like the family name