Forty On The Stack

[Verse 1]
Got my boots on the table
Receipts on the floor
Cold cup of coffee
Triple-locked door
Bills on the counter
Red ink talkin’ back
But I smile at the ceiling
Forty on the stack
[Chorus]
Forty on the stack
Yeah
Stacked up slow
But it’s stacked
Might not look like glory
But it keeps this old road mapped
Every rough little dollar
Feels like gettin’ something back
I ain’t rich
But I ain’t empty
Got my forty on the stack
[Verse 2]
Old Ford in the driveway
Rust ‘round the chrome
Kids’ boots by the back steps
Laughing through this old phone
Boss says “work on Sunday”
I just laugh off the attack
I got time
I got backbone
And forty on the stack
[Chorus]
[Bridge]
Some nights I count the worries
Some nights I count the miles
Tonight I count this crumpled roll
And your tired little smile
[low vocal register] It ain’t much to some folks
But it holds this house intact
[full voice
Band swells] Roof
Heart
Hope
And supper
Ridin’ on that stack
[Chorus]

rock, Dusty folk-blues band in a small bar: fingerpicked acoustic and resonator slide guitar, woody upright bass, light brushed snare. Male vocals, worn but confident, with a ragged harmony on the hook. Verses stay intimate and story-focused; chorus widens with stomps, claps, and a singalong feel. Slight grit on the guitars, warm tape saturation, and a tambourine that sneaks in on the final chorus for lift., folk, folk rock, blues