My back is stiff, my eyes are heavy
Sitting under live oak branches, waiting for the rain
Pecans litter the ground, their shells hard & matte
Yet the core is rotten, the shells deception
I watch your calloused hands, blistered & raw
A face drawn tight with every rasping breath
Telling stories through wine-stained lips
Of open country, trails that lead to nowhere
My heartache disguised behind a smile
Sounds of wet wood catching in the open fire
Add another log, to see us through this hour
Tell me another story, father..
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 5:13 AM UTC
My back is stiff, my eyes are heavy
Sitting under live oak branches, waiting for the rain
Pecans litter the ground, their shells hard & matte
Yet the core is rotten, the shells deception
I watch your calloused hands, blistered & raw
A face drawn tight with every rasping breath
Telling stories through wine-stained lips
Of open country, trails that lead to nowhere
My heartache disguised behind a smile
Sounds of wet wood catching in the open fire
Add another log, to see us through this hour
Tell me another story, father..
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