I'm a son-of-a-gun and a dad-gum joker. I'm just a crazy, old laid-back loafer. I got a dog looks like a gopher. And he's been a pretty good friend. .
Lie, tell me a lie. Tell me you'd like to stay for a while. Leave, before you leave. Make me believe there's still something left. . And say maybe our hearts could heal or break.
I, I fall for everything under the sun, over the moon. Coming undone, broken in two. You, you fall for anything living the lie like all the rest. Walking the line out on the edge.
In a book in a box in the closet. In a line in a song I once heard. In a moment on a front porch late one June. In a breath inside a whisper beneath the moon.
There's three in the hall from those pictures in the closet. Two in the bedroom from that night I lost it. And one deep inside me, determined to stay.
In a book, in a box, in the closet. In a line, in a song I once heard. In a moment on a front porch late one June. In a breath inside a whisper beneath the moon.
I've blamed it, I've cursed it, I've got in its way. God knows how much of it I've thrown away. It's twisted and tangled and hard to define. It keeps coming at me one day at a time.
I know we shouldn't miss church. But one Sunday won't hurt. It's just one of those days besides. I don't think the man will mind. If I take in something spiritual.