I can see the lights of the unoccupied second homes
That they keep lit up for no reason reflecting on the barely moving water
On an inland sea where people park their money

I live year-round in a vacation place
I love the winter wind in my face
Harrowing beneath trees this big and groaning
No echo loud enough above the blowing

All these absentee owners miss
The huge embrace, the pressing kiss
Of this specific November rain in the long darkness
But that's okay
I'll drink all the rain while I trespass

They keep the outside light on though
I guess to let everyone else know
"Keep away, this patch of night sky I also claim as mine"

But don't they realize
All our stolen wealth is built on screaming bones?

In their lights that dot the hillside
I see blinking eyes