Saturday, January 16, 2010

poor boy.

Like road trips on open roads
Windows down sun setting and fresh new clothes
Shoes off so you can stop reflect on all these paths unfolding
With these staffs that are pulling in this world so controlling
It’s not always best to take the interstate
Sometimes the most is on the windy coast way
‘Cause wide is the path pulling astray
Narrow is the truth in these days
But all the while I hear a still small voice say
You climbed the cliffs rocked the desert on your very own
Swam the seas, sang the songs with the sweetest tones
The beaches you’ve combed, moons you’ve roamed the love you’ve shown
But all the while a voice calls you home

- Mat Kearney

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