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Brock Zeman
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Tires On the Gravel
I thought I heard the telephone so I stumbled from my bed
Thinking it'd be you saying you're sorry again
But as I made it to the front room in time to pick it up
There was no one on the other end
So I put on a pot of coffee and smoked a cigarette
And I listened to the autumn wind a-moan
I heard some tires on the gravel
So I looked out to see if it was you turning down the road
Lord, if you're listening I know you're a busy man
And there's lots of places that you've gotta be
But there's a little girl in this little town
Do me a favor if you can
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Tell me, is she thinking about me
I poked around a couple of hours and did nothing much at all
Save sit and stare into the yard
I saw a hairpin on the table that she must of left behind
Funny how a thing so small can tear your whole world apart
It's a sad song on the radio and it's whiskey in a cup
And the thought that I've got nothing left to loose
It's the slow burning down my throat and the numbness in my head
And it's the only thing it seems that can get me through
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