The Song

His blue eyes were wild

As his steady hand

Everyone could see

He was a troubled man

A heartbroken renegade

Out on some prairie trail

He chose a heartbreaking story 

Over some old fairytale

Sitting quiet in a corner

Holding his whiskey drink

He didn't say much

But everyone could hear him think

And it's not that he's bad

It's just that he did not belong

He was never the singer

He was always the song

He never was the singer

He just lived like a song

Her eyes were burning

Scorched behind her fair skin

As she took measure of a life she didn't really choose, but it's the one she was living in

Looking at a picture book

Maybe, forty years from now

And she drinks it over

How she made it through somehow

She will always know

Her greatest mistake

The biggest thing she lost

Was on the long shot chance

That she did not take

And she still thinks about a renegade boy

On some hard prairie trail

And the safe life she chose 

Over some damned old fairytale

She tried to stay true

And she tried to stay strong

She was always the singer

But she could've been the song

She was only the singer

She should've been the song

Thirty years of dust and gravel

On some hot old southern ground

And they look back at how lost they really were

And how easy it would've been to get found

And he loves her still today

A lifetime ago and that many miles away

As he stares down one last prairie trail

He gets lost in make believe

With a smile and a tear 

He just disappears into some old fairytale

He closed his eyes one last time

Knowing she could do no wrong

He was just the writer

She was the song

He was just the writer

And she was his sad sad song