One More Weight
White wedding in 1993
We packed our smiles in our suitcases
As we headed to our home to be
Not much in our bank accounts
But a whole lot of love in a deadbeat town
That beat down the love out of you and me
Oh it beat down the love out of you and me
Church on Sunday, work on Monday
The summer sun can't burn away
Simple words that build and hurt
Are less like knives, and more like being
Pressed to death, but still I beg for one more weight
One more weight
Dust covers our portrait from that day
Our eyes don't seem so bright
From across the great divide we've made
As our chasm grew, the house did too
Got a whole nother floor and a guest bedroom
And one by one we painted every wall gray
Church on Sunday, work on Monday
The summer sun can't burn away
Simple words that build and hurt
Are less like knives, and more like being
Pressed to death, but still I beg for one more weight
One more, one more weight
Church on Sunday, work on Monday
Church on Sunday, work on Monday
Church on Sunday, work on Monday
Every day, every day, every day
Church on Sunday, work on Monday
The summer sun can't burn away
Simple words that build and hurt
Are less like knives, and more like being
Pressed to death, but still I beg for one more weight
One more, one more weight
One more weight
One more weight
We packed our smiles in our suitcases
As we headed to our home to be
Not much in our bank accounts
But a whole lot of love in a deadbeat town
That beat down the love out of you and me
Oh it beat down the love out of you and me
Church on Sunday, work on Monday
The summer sun can't burn away
Simple words that build and hurt
Are less like knives, and more like being
Pressed to death, but still I beg for one more weight
One more weight
Dust covers our portrait from that day
Our eyes don't seem so bright
From across the great divide we've made
As our chasm grew, the house did too
Got a whole nother floor and a guest bedroom
And one by one we painted every wall gray
Church on Sunday, work on Monday
The summer sun can't burn away
Simple words that build and hurt
Are less like knives, and more like being
Pressed to death, but still I beg for one more weight
One more, one more weight
Church on Sunday, work on Monday
Church on Sunday, work on Monday
Church on Sunday, work on Monday
Every day, every day, every day
Church on Sunday, work on Monday
The summer sun can't burn away
Simple words that build and hurt
Are less like knives, and more like being
Pressed to death, but still I beg for one more weight
One more, one more weight
One more weight
One more weight
Credits
Writer(s): Paige Vansickle
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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