a "yes", a "no", a "maybe so"
a "can't decide", an "I don't know"
decisions everywhere I go
a "yes", a "no", a "maybe so"

a "what", a "why", a "let me be"
please oh please just don't ask me
problems and worries are all I see
a "what", a "why", a "let me be"

a "yes", a "no", a "maybe so"
a "can't decide", an "I don't know"
decisions everywhere I go
one more and I think I'll blow

we'll face the world
a pair of two
you with me
and me with you

you'll hold my hand
I'll kiss your cheek
together strong
together weak

come make me laugh
I'll make you grin
we'll never feel
alone again

standing together
side by side
our souls will never
have to hide

we'll face the world
a pair of two
you with me
and me with you

an old soul,
a little crinkled on the edges
covered in the musty scent of a grandmothers attic,
tainted with memories of what has been
and what is yet to be
a free spirit,
drawn by the tug of
the wind
and the water
and the waves beating upon the shore
time and time again
wanting to go
explore
discover
live
the soul fights back a weary sigh
isn't there something better to be doing?
and after all
won't the tide be gone
in just a couple of days?
the slow hiss of air from a deflating balloon
another dream is drowned in maybes
washed away like a finger smudge scrubbed off a window on cleaning day
a constant tug of war
waging on and on
an old soul
a free spirit
a restless heart

I'm from Sister Shubert's rolls and homemade chicken and dumplings
From bowling late on Thanksgiving night to trying to be the first one to find the pickle in the Christmas tree

I'm from the smell of my mom's famous pies (pecan, chocolate peanut butter and Kentucky derby fresh from the oven)
From "Sweet Caroline" and "Oh Happy Day"

I'm from the macaroni and cheese I never realized was good
From "Dance with the cow in a patch of clover" and puzzles on Nana's steps

I'm from Rook parallel to the bathtub
From my three favorite windows in the whole house and crazy surprises in my lunchbox

I'm from reading dad's sermons over his shoulder early on Sunday mornings
From lightning bugs and fried okra to the quote board and pickle pancakes

I'm from biscuits with honey for breakfast every Saturday
From McDonald's delicious chocolate birthday cakes

I'm from ***** feet and a pitch black washcloth
And that's the only way I'd want it

There's a girl who laughs the color of the full moon
She crinkles her eyes as a smile spreads over her face
Stretching like leather on an canvas

There's a girl who cries the color of an unripe blackberry
She watches sad movies and chokes back tears
Letting the salt water tell her to breathe

There's a girl who dreams the color of old lace
She flips through an old photo album
And imagines her future through the fading memories of the past

There's a girl who sings the color of your favorite t-shirt
She lets her voice be drowned out by the radio
The wind whipping through her hair on a Sunday afternoon

Then there is a girl who is nothing

And I don't know which one matters more

You're going to end up in a car with the star of the football team with no idea what to say to him
You're going to run down a hill in a flowing skirt and feel like a model
You're going to wake up with cramps and a broken heart and want to stay in bed for eternity
You're going to have an inside joke with your locker neighbor and realize he's not such a bad guy
You're going to write so many papers that you have a little indention in your finger from holding the pencil
You're going to stumble across that old love letter you got in 5th grade and nostalgia will flood your mind
You're going to square dance in the middle of a city with your best friend
You're going to sing at the top of your lungs going down the interstate
You're going to laugh until you cry
And you're going to realize that yes, life is beautiful; and yes, life is sad; but more than anything, life sure is weird