I bush camped last night, with you,- walkabout inside of me, had conversations with the fire, burning love into me, of some kind. O… I miss the smell of you on me, pillow fights and movie nights. I woke this morning, cold to the bone, alone in a frosty tent. Oh… the smell of my boots, smoke and spilled whiskey… and the wise words given to me by an angel, written on an old receipt. O… I miss looking into the eyes of you, pillow fights and movie nights. I got the billy boiling coffee for the demons in me. Today I ride through this devil’s country, with the early sun already taking aim at me, trying to burn the living hell out of me. O… I miss the smell of you on me, pillow fights and movie nights. I looked at the photo of you in my wallet, only to have you looking back at me. I packed my dreams, and the image of you, -dancing with the fire burning in me. I saddled the iron horse, took the road and let the demons run free. with the front wheel pointing to wherever you might be. O… I miss looking into the eyes of you, pillow fights and movie nights. Oh… those words from the angel, written on that old receipt, will stay with me forever. “Everybody dies, but not everybody lives…” Do you ever know what it means to be free? How many more stops before I get to you, I wonder? Cold nights… and miles upon miles to cover. Through stormy weather, in my dirty best— jeans and leather. O… I miss the smell of you on me, pillow fights and movie nights. O… I miss looking into the eyes of you, pillow fights and movie nights.
