|
Well my daddy he stood at the foot of the stairs
|
He was calling to me at the time
|
And I knew even then, I could die for the thoughts
|
That I kept in the back of my mind
|
|
But I dared not to speak
|
How I felt for my dad
|
Cause there were no words to define
|
The ball of confusion, of feelings and stuff
|
That I kept in the back of my mind
|
|
So I took to the highway
|
And I kept to myself
|
Just a lookin' and hopin' to find
|
Some solutions, some answers, someway to exist
|
All this stuff in the back of my mind
|
|
So I took me a job
|
And I took me a wife
|
And I took me a bottle of wine
|
And it did not take long, 'til all I had left
|
Was this junk in the back of my mind
|
|
Well the end of the tunnel
|
It never came up
|
'til I came to the end of the line
|
And I saw that the light I'd been hoping to see
|
Was just a spark in the back of my mind
|
|
And the cold wind that blew
|
Through the hole in my heart
|
Made a fire for the very first time
|
From some branches of trust
|
And a kindling of faith
|
And that spark in the back of my mind
|
|
Drivin' like rain, or a runaway train
|
Flyin' blind, shot from the dark in the back of my mind
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Back Of My Mind
|
| John Hiatt |