Light of the Burning Sun - John Hiatt, Jerry Douglas

The message was sent

The task was done

Prayers offered up in the night

Faced the light of the burning sun

My brother was dead

By his own hand

A gun in the glove box

'Cause he carried money

For the old man

They say he gambled

Friday’s payroll

Found him in his car

In a cornfield

Twenty one years old

He wanted to own

His own clothing store

Dressed like Sam Cooke

With the catholic girls

In his Fair lane Ford

Doing his job

Doing his best

Selling burnt orange

And avocado green kitchens

All across th midwest

The favored on

Me and my brothers all knew

My mother loved him more

Than she knew

What to do

The message was sent

The truth to tell

The officer tried to catch her

As she wept and fell

My father screamed no

And beat on the wall

Shook the foundations of the house

Shook the life out of us all

The priest came by

Undeterred

There to explain

The unexplainable

With god’s word

The message was sent

A family gone

The death of a golden child

And nothing left

To carry on

The message was sent

The task was done

Prayers offered up in the night

Faced the light of the burning sun