Sunday Afternoon

Take me out to see the stars, I’ve been dying to
The past few weeks I’ve given my last ounce of trying too
And everything I want to say is always on the tip of my tongue tied, twisted tongue
Like how I miss my old friends and the blood rush of being young

And I’m just gonna’ be honest for the first time in awhile
I miss the way her home smelled, her southern accent, the way she made me smile
But now I’m coming home, all alone, tired to my bones
Country roads treat me fair
I haven’t even seen the gravestone that I paid to have placed there

He said son don’t you miss that southern sun keeping you warm
Before you ever sang a word and the lines of liars formed
But those cicadas in the back acres, are waiting on you
And every damn word of The Birdhunters still rings true

It’s kind of odd, finding God, once you get sober
I know I’m not a good man but I know I’m one step closer
You seem to know me so well now that I’m doing okay
But I heard silence on the phone when you heard me struggle yesterday
Yeah I heard silence on the phone when you heard me struggling yesterday

Won’t you take me out to see the stars, I’ve been dying to
The past few weeks I’ve given my last ounce of trying too
And everything I want to say is always on the tip of my tied up, twisted, tongue
Like how I miss my old friends and the blood rush of being young

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