and rope the state of Alabama
so that 1,000 miles, became just 2.
I’d catch that southern land and drag it next door,
it would be like we had imagined, searching for stars in the night,
and could never help but think that there was something more.
But chasing cans has taken my time and ability to throw a rope.
So I’m stuck running that so-called lucky cloverleaf and forever wheeling mind,
I write down every feeling, every pain, and thought to try to cope.
My family considers me a desperado and I guess that’s true.
But the only reason I roam alone
is because I’m here missing you.
Miles took my better half, leaving my right side silent,
though your shoulder still takes my rain, even from 1,000 miles away.
But with every passing day, the missing becomes more strident.