Monday, September 7, 2009
I was riding shotgun with my hair undone in the front seat of his car
He's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel
The other on my heart
I look around, turn the radio down
He says baby is something wrong?
I say nothing I was just thinking how we don't have a song
And he says...
Our song is the slamming screen doors,
Sneakin' out late, tapping on your window
When we're on the phone and you talk real slow
'cause it's late and your mama don't know
Our song is the way you laugh
The first date "man, I didn't kiss her, and I should have"
And when I got home ... before I said amen
Asking God if he could play it again
I was walking up the front porch steps after everything that day
Had gone all wrong and been trampled on
And lost and thrown away
Got to the hallway, well on my way to my lovin' bed
I almost didn't notice all the roses
And the note that said...
I've heard every album, listened to the radio
Waited for something to come along
That was as good as our song...
I was riding shotgun with my hair undone
In the front seat of his car
I grabbed a pen and an old napkin
And I wrote down our song