There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow Just you wait and see There'll be love and laughter And peace ever after Tomorrow When
of a white Christmas With every Christmas card I write May your days be merry and bright And may all your Christmases be white I'm dreaming of a white
They tell me miracles abound now more than ever But I don't care They say, it's better to be blessed than it is to be clever But I don't care Girl, I
to explain Cold front bearing down Blowing in from Birmingham By dawn the window's wet with icy rain Behind fourteen doors A sad parade of paramours are throwing little White
Fools wind blowing up, brown Bible verses Dust storm of memory, truck stop reverie Three a.m. in my home town, not a soul stirring around Mr Trucker Man
The days of our innocence and grace flow by The smiles we wear upon our face blow by Oh, the sweet wine of youth Goes sour over time Seems like the more
That night we drank wine from the crazy well Shot a shotgun out the window of our automobile We was young, we was wild and we sure had our fun Until the
Wonder if you know, what you see ain't what you get Wonder have you learned a dirty word, did you forget? 'Cause there's talk on the street say sugar
Where in the world did you come from my dear? Did some mysterious voice tell you I'd still be here? I bought this ticket to Mobile but I've been stranded
Sometimes you gotta take off your shoes Sit right down in the middle of the road Kick off the dust and deal with the news That you are blind These dreams
Sunlight in the weeds I wish that I was blind To the ghost dancing in the breeze Blowing through my mind Got a Corvair in my yard It hasn't run in fifteen
How we get lost Going from here to there Counting numbers in the air Cheekbone to a cool stone wall See the fireflies in this mason jar Light my smile
It's the twilight hour As the sun goes down I see a flatbed Ford with a scrapyard load Rattle off through town The railroad crossing lights flash on
I like to go out walking, in the ghost town of my brain Kick the rusted scrap iron of my memories and dreams Yeah, here's a busted compass, look the needle
Jesus and the fiery furnace Oh the Devil and the deep blue sea Preacher say I'm gonna burn in Hell for all eternity But when I have my Judgment Day And
Out in the junkyard in the pines They're working over time Hacking back them vines That are eating up their minds Fruit of the vine, that old fruit of
When too much beauty numbs the mind When what you see ain't what you get When digging deeper what you find Is skeletons best left behind We go crash
I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi My girlfriend blows a boozy good bye kiss I see flying squirrels and nightmares of stigmata Then awakenin' to