Nothing on my tongue so much in my ground
You never know she follows her words from town to town
If it weren't for my brain, I'd just go over and make friends
Seems like I'm starving for words whenever you around
Half time I got my gaze trained on your motel door
Rest time my gaze lays like a stain on the carpeted floor
Fourth door from the end
See the little song bird unable to make a sound
Nothing on my tongue so much in my ground, ground
Too bad about my brain 'cause I'd like to make friends, friends
We both got gardens of songs and maybe it's okay
That I am speechless because I picked you this bouquet
