When writing you're history,
|
I will always be a footnote
|
A distant memory
|
A warning sign of mistakes made
|
The kind that you learn from
|
This song is the best of me
|
Taking pills for solemn motive
|
A better side of me, an open mind
|
For mistakes made
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The kind that you burn from
|
|
So take this small confession as my price to pay
|
I've never been the kind to let go
|
But before you up and walk away
|
I'm miserable without you, you know
|
This silver leaves me longing for gold
|
Second place has never carried me home
|
Second place has never carried me home
|
|
This song is so out of key
|
I'm trying harder just to even
|
These memories of you
|
A warning sign of regression
|
The kind you never learn from
|
This song is the melody
|
Meant to show you a little more than
|
A better history, an open sky
|
Of redemption
|
The kind you always burn from
|
|
So take this small confession as my price to pay
|
I've never been the kind to let go
|
But before you up and walk away
|
I'm miserable without you, you know
|
This silver leaves me burning for gold
|
Second place has never carried me home
|
Second place has never carried me (home, home, home, home)
|
It never carried me (home, home, home, home)
|
|
-----------------
|
Silver
|
| David Cook |
