My baby changes like the weather. One day she's warm and then she's cold. But some day I'll understand her better. In a thousand years or so. . But as long as there's blue sky above me.
There's a little mountain church in my thoughts of yesterday. Where friends and family gathered for the Lord. Where an ol' fashioned preacher taught the straight and narrow way.
Do you feel a kindred spirit, to the sound of pouring rain?. Does your heart start to yearning when you hear a distant train?. If you'd like to take that train and ride, to someone left behind.
Shattered inside and scattered around. Were the pieces of her broken heart. I gathered up the pieces I found. I put her back together like a busted guitar.