Home. Part 2

Toby unlatched his front door, the shacks only door
And was greeted by the damp musty air
It hung like it hadn't moved since he left
The smell he had known for more than half his life

The floor was brick, half mud, worn where only his feet had been
For most of it's life anyways
'Cept a brief time when she was there
And them... his flesh, his blood

He moved quick. He knew stoppin' killed ya
Like thinking. Like waiting
He didn't think. He never waited
Toby knew too well his heart and soul could never be broke
She took care of that
But the mind. His mind.
That's dangerous. Toby knew.
So he stayed fast. He didn't think. And he never waited..

Lit the fire, it was already set, neat with years of precision
Filled the billy from the creek out the back
Boiled it, and drank his brew too hot
Couldn't wait for it to cool. Never had

He wasn't sure when he first heard it...
Toby wondered in later years if he ever actually did hear it
Or it was just the hiss and whistle of his billy
But he moved quick and felt uneasy
Grabbed his 22
Somethin' was different, and he didn't like it...