Stories see to never come out right when I comes out my mouth, Is the only
way you hear? Watch my feet as I tell it all. So much is still not said, yet this is
Sunlight somehow makes the day feel like back road memories of wooden
bridges that sound like rumbling laughter in Ruth’s kitchen. Potato jacks on
the porch makes easy this kind of living.
Standing here with my eyes on love, I see the reason and the purpose we
make fantasies in our mind and hold onto our God to make it right.
Sunlight somehow makes the day feel OK even if we turned and walked away
with our dreams unmet now the story is a pretty lie with no regrets.
460 million dreams found in these fields won’t let me sleep not when the
truth begs to be found. I heard all the freedom cries. It’s in my blood.
I refuse to turn and pretend the pain is gone away.
My beautiful people we’ve got a little more work to do reality will be home
real soon what kind of loving will you choose?
My beautiful people we got a little more work to do, Reality will be home real
What kind of loving will you choose?