Powder

[Verse 1]

You shouldn’t be driving high

Powder your churches, stole the medal

Missouri winter wheat

Colors that feel just like shelves of dust

Yeah at home your sick

Don’t have the energy to take the bus

Then another long ride home

I got tired of leaving in the dark

[Verse 2]

And you feel, that someone’s hiding ‘round in the bushes

I bet she keeps time, I wash my washcloth

And they say, these things will happen to me someday

I wish I could tell you, it runs in the family