Morning sunshine through the curtain. Throws a Rorschach on my wall. Waking up wide asleep. I try unraveling it all. By all rights I should be dead. From this bullet hole in my head.
I watched every sun up comin' over my tin cup. Seen every moon changin' while I slept with the sky. Felt the chill in the north wind, find holes that I can't mend.