Folded Hands

I'm not a praying man,
but I've got folded hands and a church pew.
I wanna believe in you.
I've said all those words,
still I don't have enough nerve to come and visit your grave.
I'm not brave.
Home doesn't feel like home.
I walk through the door
and every single thing has changed.

Nothing feels the same.
I look at the couch
where you use to sit and sit so empty now,
but I know you're proud.
I will drop my pride,
I'll visit you when the time feels right.
When the time feels right.
I'll bring flowers and a shirt.
Six feet under the ground
and you're still the best part of this earth.
It hurts.



Credits
Writer(s): Chase Huglin
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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