Montana
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I am from dust storms, From wheat and whiskey.I am from the chipped off paint on the back of the house(White, dirty, whistling in the wind).I am from the shrubs, The BitterrootsThe colors barely vibrant enough to remember. I’m from homemade meals
I am from dust storms, From wheat and whiskey.I am from the chipped off paint on the back of the house(White, dirty, whistling in the wind).I am from the shrubs, The BitterrootsThe colors barely vibrant enough to remember. I’m from homemade meals
Dear Troy, I want to take you back
Back to that October morning
When you rode on the back of that flatbed, freezing, trembling
Remember how the vicious air whisked against your face
There’s something about the way the sun peaks over the snow covered mountains
That makes me realize it’s a new day
There’s something about the steam on the river
That makes me see the warmth in the cold
One year ago he didn't think he ever could
he trained and trained and always came up short
he never thought he ever would
now he is chasing his dreams
One year ago he didn't think he ever could
he trained and trained and always came up short
he never thought he ever would
now he is chasing his dreams
wrestling with his favorite team
I wear the hours
of each day under
both eyes.
A body's natural way of
saying
it is hard,
but I am trying.
And I will wear them without shame,
‘Twas a cold and blistering Monday afternoon
Seventy nine miles of pavement separated us from our destination
The winter had came with full brute force
Snow drifts alongside the road completely covered the property fences
