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I only knew you from |
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Three months of tour, and a cellular phone |
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We talked of the midwest |
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And i learned all of that you left behind |
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Oh and the loss runs deep |
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Your father and a friend are rug-pulled from your feet |
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But i'll try and give you a place |
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To lay your tired head, |
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And hide your lonely face |
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There's a bed waiting for you, |
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There's a light that i left on, |
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There's a purpose in the distance in |
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The things that i've done wrong |
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You came to stay with us |
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A week in the south, you weren't missing much |
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The day that you left it rained |
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And the cold weather up north was calling your name |
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So i helped you pack your bags |
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Folding your shirts, the clothes on your back |
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Home never felt so far |
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And the morning i found sweaters you dropped in my front yard |
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There's a bed waiting for you, |
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There's a light that i left on, |
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There's a purpose in the distance in the things that i've done wrong |
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Be careful how you hold yourself, i know |
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You worry what might happen but i swear it wont |
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So i'm waiting for your voice to make a sound |
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But i know every word before they leave your mouth |
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There's a place that you live in, |
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A town that you call home |
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There's a state that you visit, |
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But you never stay too long |
