well it aint home
|
but it'll have to do for a while
|
got a fold down bed
|
two windows on the parking lot
|
three plates in the kitchenette
|
a table and chair where i can eat
|
a little black-and-white tv
|
a shower stall and a bathroom sink
|
and one two-drawer nightsand
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barely enough room to be a man
|
|
and on the nightstand
|
sits a photograph
|
of my wife and kids
|
reminding me of how good it was
|
and right now, how bad it is
|
beside it there's a coffee cup
|
where i keep my wedding ring and stuff
|
and some nights it still keeps me up
|
how i got where i am
|
funny how a man's life can be reduced
|
to one nightstand
|
|
on the fifth of last november
|
on a business trip in denver
|
the airport cancelled all the flights
|
we were snowed-in strangers
|
alone for the night
|
she said "hi im angie
|
and im from boston
|
would you drink a beer with me
|
If i bought 'em?"
|
so i hit the hotel bar with her
|
figured, what would it hurt?
|
|
sittin' on the bed
|
leanin' against the wall
|
with a bible and a gun
|
one of them was gonna save me
|
the only question was which one
|
so i got down on my shakin knees
|
asked the lord forgive me please
|
dropped the gun and grabbed my keys
|
that picture and my wedding band
|
funny how a man's life can all come down
|
to one nightstand
|
one nightstand
|
one nightstand
|
|
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|
One Nightstand
|
Trace Adkins |