Cornmash and Cedar

Cornmash in the jar, cedar in the wrap
Two old kinds of waiting in my hands
One was born in a barn I never visited
One was born in a barn in another land

I don't need the story to know the weather
I can taste the dirt they both came through
Whiskey bites first, the leaf takes over
Together they make a softer kind of truth

There's a map on the bottle I don't follow
There's a band on the leaf I don't read
I come for the way they fill a quiet room
And the way they ask so little of me

Pour for the ones who worked the ground
Draw for the ones who waited years
I ain't them. I'm just a grateful sinner
Paying respect in smoke and tears