Well I woke up this morning with a hurricane in my head. Blinded by the wind and the rain. I guess I thought I could ride out that storm now I'm afraid of the choice I've made. Wearing that anger on your collar for the whole world to see the trouble you've been under. Carry that chip boy on your shoulder while the rest just suffer, under the weight of your boulder, while we are slowly growing older. Well you better make your words soft and sweet, cause you never know from day to day, which ones you'll have to eat. Lord you never know from day to day, which ones you'll have to eat. Truck showed up somewhere in Florida, I guess it had been about ten years. Just dropped down like a stone from the sky, hoping we might still be friends. A crook with a hook out on the road starting to believe all the lies he told. One winter's night in the Montana snow well all his pride he finally broke down and let it go. Tired of hiding from the man who stole the show. Well his words they cried truth and humility still you never know from day to day, which ones you'll have to eat. Well I took a little ride not long ago. To a far away land where the corn don't grow. And a dark haired woman climbed in my head and like a fool I believed every word she said. Words broken, won't you give me one or two to call my own. Words broken, they are just lines. Words broken won't you give me one or two that I can keep. Words broken they are just lines. Heading west from Ashland, boy where's your soul bound. Ten thousand feet up in the sky and on your face there is still a frown. Wearing that anger on your collar for the whole world to see the trouble you've been under. Carry that chip boy on your shoulder while the rest just suffer under the weight of your boulder, while we are slowly growing older. You better make your words soft and sweet cause you never know from day to day, which ones you'll have to eat. Lord you never know from day to day which ones you'll have to eat.
