‘Quiet Town’ By the Killers

Here is a song by the Killers that immediately made me think of the small town that I live in, Watertown, SD. ‘Quiet Town’ by the Killers tells the powerful and moving story of a town that is filled with good people and a growing darkness. Teens dying, opioid addiction, good people who love Jesus and work the land for a living. Good and bad exists in quiet towns just like it does in each one of us. Quite honestly, the desperation that you hear in this song is one of the reasons I worked with some other local pastors to start a ministry in this quiet town called Celebrate Recovery. Anyway, the song is emotional (at least for me) and does a good job of explaining what life is like right here in Watertown.

BTW: If you hear Springsteen in their music and in their in storytelling you are on the right track.

A couple of kids got hit by a Union Pacific train
Carrying sheet metal and household appliances
Through the pouring rain
They were planning on getting married after graduation
Had a little baby girl, trouble came and shut it down
Things like that ain’t supposed to happen
In this quiet town
Families are tight
Good people, they still don’t deadbolt their doors at night
In this quiet town
When we first heard opioid stories
They were always in whispering tones
Now banners of sorrow mark the front steps of childhood homes
Parents wept through daddy’s girl eulogies
And merit badge milestones with their daughters and sons
Laying there lifeless in their suits and gowns
Somebody’s been keepin’ secrets
In this quiet town
They know how to live
Good people who lean on Jesus
They’re quick to forgive
In this quiet town
Now whenever I’m near the town
I’ll find some reason to give
And I will walk with the dead and the living where I used to live
And every time I see my parents in the prime of their lives
Offering their son the kind of love he could never put down
Part of me is still that stainless kid, lucky
In this quiet town
Salt of the land
Hard-working people, if you’re in trouble
They’ll lend you a hand
Here in this quiet town
The first crop of hay is up
School let out and the sun beats down
Smoke billows from a Sunday train
That cries away from a quiet town

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