These Songs

My little girl keeps asking "why" about everything
While I judge my reactions as hard as I try to explain
Your momma and me talked about it, long before you came
How we'd tackle situations, and try to keep you from the pain

I thought I needed heaven
Or at least a plan B
To give you everything you want and me pursue my dreams
Now I know it won't be perfect
And it don't always pay to wait
That's the irony of every situation

Like my grandpa trying to warn me about flying down 52
And the one time that I wasn't, I hydroplaned and I flipped the coupe
And my daddy asked a thousand times just what I planned to do
And I never had an answer, and I still don't think I do

But the main things that keep me holding on
Is that little girl, her momma, and these songs
A salesman or a teacher, or a preacher; they ain't wrong
But I keep coming back to these songs

So I considered the Air Force
I could go to San Anton'
But they'd say I don't breathe good enough
They'd ship me straight back home
So I cut plastic, sold some TV's, signed a record deal
Did dumb things with my buddies, to camouflage the way I feel

When I was singing Green Lea Blvd, calling it a different name
Or in Hollywood, roaring like a lion; what a waste
And Scott tore that dollar bill in half and said, "you just wait"
And he's never let me down before or after that day

But the main things that keep me holding on
Are my best friends, our stories, and these songs
A retail or a warehouse worker; they ain't wrong
But I keep coming back to these songs

And I thought I had it figured out before
I thought I'd just walk through some enormous open door
Maybe give up and try a hundred other ways
Just to make it through the day

But the main things, that keep me holding on
Is that little girl, her momma, my best friends, and these songs
All the million ways it could've turn out; they ain't wrong
But I keep coming back to these songs

Yeah a singer or a writer can't be wrong
Cause I keep coming back
Oh, I keep coming back
Yeah, I keep coming back
To these songs