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Saturday, August 22, 2015

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