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🏜️ "The Devil’s in the drought, pullin’ on the string..." 🏜️ A new original song in the Dark Country / Gothic Americana style. Don’t forget to LIKE 👍, SHARE 🔄, and SUBSCRIBE 🔔 for more dark, cinematic music! ► Explore all my music projects (YouTube, Instagram, etc.) on my official Linktree: https://linktr.ee/ComicsVerseAI LYRICS: The preacher man’s well went dry last June He’s blaming the whiskey, I’m blaming the moon She hangs overhead like a cold, dead eye Watchin’ the buzzards draw maps in the sky. My throat is all dust, my hands are all stain Been ten long weeks since the last good rain And the only thing growin’ in this cursed-out patch Is the name on a tombstone that nobody scratched. Oh, the creek bed is cracked and the crows won’t sing The Devil’s in the drought, pullin’ on the string. We pray for redemption, we pray for the flood But the sky just sends heat, and the dirt demands blood. Yeah, the dirt demands blood. My boots kick the gravel by the railroad tie Heard a northbound train, but it passed me by. Got a picture of Mary in my flannel coat Got a two-dollar bill and a desperate hope. But hope starves to death when the land is this thin And the skeletons you buried crawl out of your skin. I confessed to the wind, 'cause the church doors are locked Told it all of the secrets that my conscience stocked. Oh, the creek bed is cracked and the crows won’t sing The Devil’s in the drought, pullin’ on the string. We pray for redemption, we pray for the flood But the sky just sends heat, and the dirt demands blood. Yeah, the dirt demands blood. The horizon is shakin', a shimmer of fire Burnin' up the last threads of my desire. If the water don't come, the Reaper will He's been waitin' right patient on top of that hill. He don't need no water, he just needs a soul And this town is plumb full, and he's taking his toll. The fiddle sounds haunted, the banjo is cracked Ain’t no turnin’ back from the pact that we’ve packed. We traded the green for the rust and the brown The silence gets heavy when the sun goes down. So I’ll sit on this porch, with my guilt and my gun Waitin' for the clouds, or the judgment to come. One way or another, this thirst's gonna break By the grace of the Lord, or the Devil's mistake. Oh, the creek bed is cracked and the crows won’t sing The Devil’s in the drought, pullin’ on the string. We pray for redemption, we pray for the flood But the sky just sends heat, and the dirt demands blood. Yeah, the dirt demands blood. Nothin' but dust... Nothin' but dust... --- ABOUT THIS TRACK: This is a cinematic ballad of a town cursed by a hellish drought. A story where "the sky just sends heat, and the dirt demands blood." When the creek bed is cracked and the crows won't sing, you know the Devil is pulling the strings. AI-ASSISTED CREATIVE WORKFLOW: Music created with Suno Visuals generated with Midjourney / Kling Edited in CapCut #DarkCountry #GothicAmericana #DevilsDrought #SouthernGothic #OriginalSong #SunoAI #AIMusicVideo #DesertGothic #DirtDemandsBlood