The Forgotten City

Lyrics

There used to be a wooden sign
At the bend past Miller’s Creek,
Painted white with letters black,
But time wore out what it used to speak.
The winter wind took half the words,
The summer sun erased the rest,
Now an empty pair of rusted posts
Stand like questions in the west.

Old man Carter calls it Franklin,
Miss Louise says it was Boone,
Some say it was named for a railroad man
Who left one rainy afternoon.
The courthouse books were lost in a fire,
The school bell disappeared,
And every story changes some
With every passing year.

In the forgotten city,
The town that forgot its name,
Where the road signs disappeared
And no two memories stayed the same.
There are foundations in the weeds,
Old stones beneath the rain,
But nobody knows whose home stood there
Or who walked down that lane.
So tell me, are we where we’re from,
Or what we choose to be?
In the forgotten city,
We’re naming our own history.

There’s a chimney in a pasture
With no house left standing near,
A broken cup beneath the dirt,
A child’s marble smooth and clear.
There’s a cellar full of silence,
An apple tree gone wild,

And someone carved two hearts in stone
When both of them were young and smiled.

The oldest folks met Sunday
In the basement of the church,
They brought old maps and family Bibles,
But every clue just made things worse.
Some wanted back the oldest name,
Some said, “Let the old name go.”
A little girl stood up and asked,
“Why can’t we name the home we know?”

In the forgotten city,
The town that forgot its name,
Where the road signs disappeared
And no two memories stayed the same.
There are foundations in the weeds,
Old stones beneath the rain,
But nobody knows whose home stood there
Or who walked down that lane.
So tell me, are we where we’re from,
Or what we choose to be?
In the forgotten city,
We’re naming our own history.

A name can fade from paper,
It can vanish from a sign,
But it lives in every hand that builds,
And every heart that stays behind.
We may never know the people
Who first broke this stubborn ground,
But we can leave a name worth keeping
When the next ones come around.

So they gathered by the crossroads
On a bright September day,
Every family wrote one word
For what they hoped would always stay.
They chose a name that meant “belonging,”
Raised a new sign by the grain,

And underneath, in smaller letters:
“We remember what remains.”

In the forgotten city,
The town that found its name,
Where the road signs once disappeared,
But the people still remained.
There are foundations in the weeds,
Old stones beneath the rain,
And though nobody knows whose home stood there,
Their living was not vain.
No, we’re not only where we’re from,
We’re what we choose to be,
In the forgotten city,
We became our own history.

At the bend past Miller’s Creek,
A new sign stands today,
And every traveler slows to read
The name they chose to stay.

Happy Birthday To Me

Lyrics

July sixteenth, nineteen fifty-nine,
The prairie woke beneath a summer sky.
In a little North Dakota town,
A brand-new dream came shining down.
The wheat fields waved, the old barn stood,
Life was simple, honest, strong, and good.
I learned to work, I learned to believe,
And the open land taught my heart to breathe.

Every road I walked, every chance I took,
Wrote another page in my living book.
Through the tears and laughter, loss and victory,
Today I celebrate the making of me.

Happy birthday to me,
To the soul I was born to be.
To the child of the prairie, wild and free,
With the North Dakota wind inside of me.
I have loved, I have dreamed,
I have risen through everything.
So light every candle and let the whole world see—
I am grateful to be me.
Happy birthday,
Happy birthday to me.

I was raised where the morning chores came first,
Where the soil held promise and the rain quenched thirst.
With family beside me, season by season,
We planted with faith when we could not see the reason.
The farmhouse windows glowed at night,
A shelter filled with love and light.
Those humble days still guide my way,
And their golden memories never fade.

Every scar became a silver line,
Every mountain taught this heart to climb.
I would not trade one chapter of my history,
For every moment made the man in me.

Happy birthday to me,
To the soul I was born to be.
To the child of the prairie, wild and free,
With the North Dakota wind inside of me.
I have loved, I have dreamed,
I have risen through everything.
So light every candle and let the whole world see—
I am grateful to be me.
Happy birthday,
Happy birthday to me.

I am more than the years that have passed me by,
I am every brave beginning beneath an endless sky.
I am my mother’s tenderness, my father’s steady hands,
I am courage grown from working on that North Dakota land.
I am every prayer answered, every lesson learned,
Every bridge I crossed and every page I turned.
And the best of my story is still waiting to be seen—
There are more songs to sing and more beautiful dreams.

Happy birthday to me,
To the man I have come to be.
From a small-town beginning to a life of destiny,
Every step has brought me closer to the truth in me.
I have loved, I have dreamed,
And my heart still believes in everything.
Let the bells ring out, let my spirit rise free—
Today I honor my journey.
Happy birthday,
Happy birthday to me.

Born beneath a North Dakota sky,
With the strength of the earth and the will to fly.
July sixteenth will always be
The day the world received me.

Happy birthday,
Happy birthday,
Happy birthday to me.

The Missing Sock

Lyrics

Got my blues from the wash, where the colors all collide,
Dancing in that old machine, but now I can’t find my ride.

I was dancing with my partner,
In that old washing machine.
We were tumbling through the bubbles,
Getting fresh and getting clean.
Then the water started spinning,
And the whole world turned to black.
When that lid finally opened,
I never made it back.

I’m the missing sock, baby,
Lost somewhere inside.
Got the washing-machine blues
On this lonely laundry ride.
My partner’s in the dresser,
Lying helpless on the rack.
I’m the missing sock, baby,
And I may never make it back.

Maybe I slipped behind the washer,
Maybe I’m stuck beneath the drum.
Maybe that dryer ate me,
Like a warm and hungry bum.
I heard the blue jeans laughing,
And the towels whisper low.
“Once a sock goes missing,
Ain’t nobody gonna know.”

I’m the missing sock, baby,
Lost somewhere inside.
Got the washing-machine blues
On this lonely laundry ride.
My partner’s in the dresser,
Lying helpless on the rack.
I’m the missing sock, baby,
And I may never make it back.

We were born inside a package,
Two together from the start.
We kept those cold feet cozy,
We were never far apart.
Now my mate is worn alone,
With another sock named Fred.
But everybody knows that Fred
Is striped and I am red.

Oh, check beneath the laundry pile,
Look behind the door.
Shake the sheets and blankets,
Search across the floor.
I might be in a pant leg,
I might be in a sleeve.
Don’t throw my partner out yet,
You’ve just got to believe.

I’ve seen quarters and some buttons,
And a ticket from a show.
A paper clip, a candy wrap,
And things you shouldn’t know.
There’s a kingdom under washers,
Where the missing garments meet.
With lonely gloves and undershirts,
And slippers with no feet.

I’m the missing sock, baby,
Lost somewhere inside.
Got the washing-machine blues,
On this never-ending ride.
So when you fold your laundry,
And one sock don’t come back.
Sing a blues song for the missing one,
Who vanished from the stack.

Yeah, we’ve all lost a sock, baby,
Maybe once or twice before.
But somewhere in that laundry room,
There’s a sock still keeping score.

Heaven’s Here on Earth

Lyrics

She don’t wear wings, but she sure walks light,
Barefoot grace in the porch-moon white.
Got a Sunday smile and a Friday spark,
Turns a gravel road into a work of art.

She can calm a storm with a kitchen prayer,
Put a little gold in the county fair.
I used to look up when I dreamed of above,
Now heaven leans in when she calls me love.

Heaven’s here on earth,
A hallelujah in a cotton dress.
A front-porch angel with a wildflower heart,
And a soft place for my rest.

She’s the hymn in the hurt,
The mercy I never deserved.
I used to wonder what forever was worth,
Now I know heaven’s here on earth.

She ain’t impressed by a diamond ring,
But she’ll cry at a redbird when it starts to sing.
She saves old jars for lightning bugs,
And calls poor folks rich if they’re rich in love.

She’ll dance in rain like it’s meant to fall,
Write “thank You, Lord” on a grocery wall.
She don’t preach loud, but her life speaks clear,
Makes the far side of glory feel mighty near.

Heaven’s here on earth,
A hallelujah in a cotton dress.
A front-porch angel with a wildflower heart,
And a soft place for my rest.

She’s the hymn in the hurt,
The mercy I never deserved.
I used to wonder what forever was worth,
Now I know heaven’s her on earth.

If streets of gold got a country lane,
If angels sing with a southern twang,
If paradise has a porch light glow,
Then I’ve been living there since she said hello.

When my last sunset fades from view,
And my old boots leave this world of blue,
I won’t be scared of the great unknown,
’Cause I’ve seen heaven in the way she made home.

Heaven’s here on earth,
A hallelujah in a cotton dress.
A front-porch angel with a wildflower heart,
And a soft place for my rest.

She’s the hymn in the hurt,
The mercy I never deserved.
I searched the sky, but found my church,
Heaven’s her on earth.