(Jerry Crutchfield - Buck Maxwell). . The day you walked away you left the hurt behind. A hurt that kept on growing all the time. A hurt that lit the match that burned my world down.
Without a word. The time is mist. The branches twist against the sun. The leaves that left. Had to run. Without a word. Without a word. . Without a word.
In an effort to win. I lost it all. At a standstill. How easily it's said. . Now eat your words. Everything that I wanted to say. It seemed to die. It all seemed to die on my lips.