A raw, cinematic acoustic Americana song straight from the woods. “Roscommon” blends warm baritone vocals, campfire crackle, faucet-drip rhythm, chirping crickets, birds in the trees, and gritty cabin realism into a haunting folk anthem about survival, passion, and losing yourself deep in northern Michigan. Rustic percussion, backwoods storytelling, and late-night emotion carry this stripped-down song from the first chord to the final line.
Lyrics
Shipwreck on the wall
Two sailors, takin’ on water and lost
Crickets chirpin’, with birds tweetin’ in the trees
Daisee Mae’s eye is hurtin’
The world’s lost its mind
That’s why, I’m busy workin’
Too busy to practice these six strings
Gotta work ta eat
Cryin’, tryin’ ta make miracles happen
Tired and losin’ sleep
Squirrel’s scattered, tryin’ ta eat
Slavin’ for a buck
Watchin’ over someone else’s dream
In the woods lost, roscommon I’m gone
Everyone’s watchin’ and laughin’
The world can break your heart
But they can’t take your passion
What happens up North
Stays at the cabin
Losin’ my head, tryin’ to find my way
Plastic case of pills, just tryin’ to medicate
Eight point on the wall, staring’ down at me
Horseback, feathered Indian chief
Grandma and Grandpa on the mantle, smilin’ back at me
Stokin’, let’s get this thing smokin’
The fire’s started, let’s get rollin’
Are we dyin’ to live
Or are we just livin’ ta die
Whatever happened to what’s yours is mine
In the woods lost, roscommon I’m gone
Everyone’s watchin’ and laughin’
The world can break your heart
But they can’t take your passion
What happens up North
Stays at the cabin
The world can break your heart
But they can’t take your passion
What happens up North
Stays at the cabin