| Old friend, it’s been awhile, I ain’t spoke to you in years
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| And often times boys from this town put wheels down and disappear
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| Mrs. Cole asked about you just three days back, and I had no answer to give her
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| I told her that you moved way out West to write some songs and grow a little
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| more bitter
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| The kids talk about you around here like you’re some kind of legend
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| I wonder if they know a thousand sunrises ago you were eager just like them?
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| But if you ever decide to bring your pain and your pride back to this side of
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| Oklahoma City
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| There’ll be a porch light on from the post you leaned on 'fore you wound up on
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| the wrong side of pity
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| And often times I pray for you and often times I don’t
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| Is it the goodbyes that haunt you, or the fear of new hellos?
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| Won’t stay long cause you won’t stop your running
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| Wait for tomorrow until tomorrow’s not coming
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| Heard you landed in Tulsa while he slipped away
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| Is that the reason your fleeing the fields we hauled hay?
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| The heat this July or the dark last December
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| Look in my eyes and you might remember
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| The weed out in Norman or the Stillwater strip
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| Run far enough boy and you’re bound to trip
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| But if you ever decide to bring your pain and your pride back to this side of
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| Oklahoma City
|
| There’ll be a porch light on from the post you leaned on 'fore you wound up on
|
| the wrong side of pity
|
| And often times I pray for you and often times I don’t
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| Is it the goodbyes that haunt you, or the fear of new hellos?
|
| Never stay long cause you won’t stop your running
|
| Wait for tomorrow until tomorrow’s not coming
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| Send it
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| If you ever decide to bring your pain and your pride back to this side of
|
| Oklahoma City
|
| There’ll be a porch light on from the post you leaned on 'fore you wound up on
|
| the wrong side of pity
|
| And often times I pray for you and often times I don’t
|
| Is it the goodbyes that haunt you, or the fear of new hellos?
|
| Never stay long cause you won’t stop your running
|
| Wait for tomorrow until tomorrow’s not coming |