i remember sunday mornings walking on the beach. and that place we'd stop for breakfast with the old red vinyl seats. the hours of the tide chart. the way the sunlight danced upon your face.
He hasn't seen a drop of rain for months it seems. Rollin' river is nothing; but a tricklin' stream. The crops are dyin' in the harsh sun light. The dust on his tongue is dry.
Oh man the fights they had. He'd cover up his ears. He thought "good boys don't cry". He fought back all the tears. Mama'd use her makeup. For the bruises on her face.
When you have a child. You learn it's a serious business to have a little fun. You give grace and get forgiveness. Not seven times seventy but seven times seventy-one.
Thought I heard you call my name. And I whispered on the wind. And I remember you were going,. Never coming back again. . But if love is what we believe in.
I remember Sunday mornings, walking on the beach. And that place we'd stop for breakfast with the old red vinyl seats. The hours of the tide chart. The way the sunlight danced upon your face.