The Empty Vine - a Verve Music original song | Download yours for only $1.50!

I read an article this morning that said that colleges are closing at a pace of one every three weeks and it reminded me of Hampshire College, my alma mater, closing for good after December 2026.  So I wrote a traditional valley folk ballad charting the empty stools, lost morning wages, and cold winter silence left behind when the hilltop campus shutters its gates for good. #ValleyFolk #LocalEconomy #PioneerValley 

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Verse 1

The morning bus runs empty past the apple orchard gate,

Where gravel roads meet pavement and the yellow buses wait.

The barns are growing quiet on the eastern side of hill,

And milkweed fills the ditches where the autumn air turns chill.

Chorus

Now the dinner rush is fading and the kitchen lights are low,

With nobody to order when the winter starts to snow.

The boarding houses darken all along the county line,

And we are left to wonder what will fill the empty vine.

Verse 2

The bookstore on the corner turns its sign against the pane,

The diner counter settles in the steady autumn rain.

Five chairs sit at the counter where a crowd once used to sit,

The cellar in the dry-goods lacks the coal to keep it lit.

Chorus

Now the dinner rush is fading and the kitchen lights are low,

With nobody to order when the winter starts to snow.

The boarding houses darken all along the county line,

And we are left to wonder what will fill the empty vine.

Bridge

The bell upon the knoll stands cold above the river plain,

No boots come through the meadow grass to walk these paths again.

The hands that drew the morning wage must pack their boxes tight,

To seek their bread on roads that stretch beyond the valley night.

Verse 3

The pasture gate swings open where the thinkers used to roam,

The orchard turns to timber and the hillside stands alone.

The ledger sheets are folded and the hardware clerk departs,

Leaving quiet in the timber and a shadow in our hearts.

Chorus

Now the dinner rush is fading and the kitchen lights are low,

With nobody to order when the winter starts to snow.

The boarding houses darken all along the county line,

And we are left to wonder what will fill the empty vine.