Letter From Omaha

Well I can't sleep with all these hand-me-downs
Battered up chests and faded dreams
Every new life seems to spin away
Like sand escaping through the seams
Send me a letter from Omaha
Said a needle or thread could mend the tears
But tonight the cotton fields, they
Smell like calico
And the color of your hair

Stars stand against the lonely blue
Like pin-pricks made by midnight hands
They tried to sew you a pure white dress
Got tied up in the misdeeds and demands

Cotton burned all brown and wasted
Like an innocence fell to disrepair

But tonight the ashes, they
Smell like calico
And the color of your hair

If I could have my one and only wish
I'd sew your hair all to the lining of my shirt
I'd stand in the noon day clean and golden
Not the color of the dry land dirt

Send me a letter from Omaha
Said a needle or thread could mend the tears
But tonight the sugarcane, it
Smells like calico
And the color of your hair

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She

I paid all my dues And she wanted to know That I’d never leave her Now I’m ready to go And strange as it seems She’s endless to me She’s just like paperwork But harder to read Patience,

И Снова Будет Май

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I Don’t Want To Sober Up Tonight

I don't want to sober up tonight I don't want to act like things are alright And I don't want to change just to make you think I'm happy That's my right, I