My Parade
Same talk with the same loose friends about calling you
Staying young in my mind, in the windows that reflect the sun
Left on a moving perch, singing out loud
And now you’re far away, and nothing will ease the pain
Now trouble is on my parade
Cold on the bone, from a borrowed dress
And sunday morning’s once more, once less
My words on a page, and they’re ruined in ink
See now you’re far away, and nothing will ease the pain
Now trouble is on my parade
And I still don’t know
And I still don’t know
And I still don’t know
What to say
Autor(es): Bobby Long