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(tim mensy/shawn camp) |
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Door knob in one hand |
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Suitcase in the other |
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And i don't love you rollin' off her tongue |
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Words ripped right through me |
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Tore a hole in my heart |
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Could've hurt me a lot less with a gun |
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She nearly knocked the wall down, slammin' that ol' door |
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Now the silence is more deadly than the violence of the storm |
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I've seen a coyote howlin' |
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Cryin' for his mate |
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I've made a home with hobos |
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In the boxcar of a train |
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I've heard that famous whippoorwill |
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And felt the north wind blow |
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But there ain't nothin' quite as lonesome |
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As this side of the door |
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This side of the door |
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Me and ol' jack daniels |
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Been in this chair for days |
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And we 'bout rocked a hole in this old floor |
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Got a pocket full of bullets |
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A hair trigger .38 |
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I'm gonna put some daylight through that door |
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I will burn this house down, before i go insane |
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Use that rockin' chair for kindling, watch that door go up in flames |
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I've seen a coyote howlin' |
|
Cryin' for his mate |
|
I've made a home with hobos |
|
In the boxcar of a train |
|
I've heard that famous whippoorwill |
|
And felt the north wind blow |
|
But there ain't nothin' quite as lonesome |
|
As this side of the door |
|
I've heard that famous whippoorwill |
|
And felt the north wind blow |
|
But there ain't nothin' quite as lonesome |
|
As this side of the door |
|
This side of the door |
