Orange and gold October leaves 
Take me back to you and me 
When I was nothing but a name on a phone 
You'd laugh if you could hear me 
Talking about my fortune dreams 
But I dreamed I'd held your hand and I didn't let go, oh

Well I don't know what the next life holds 
When we're withered down to dust and bones 
There are things you can't take with you when you go 
But I hope, I hope that this ain't one of those 

Marched into the mountain mist 
And it smelled like rain the night we kissed 
We were playing down the moments just for show 
Too young to care, too old to quit 
Dancing on the Nashville bridge 
We were talking about forever like we'd know, oh

Well I don't know what the next life holds 
When we're withered down to dust and bones 
There are things you can't take with you when you go 
But I hope, I hope that this ain't one of those 

When there's nothing left in this old town 
And the whole wild world has been torn down 
And we're sleeping hard inside the ground 
Well I hope that I'll be sleeping next to you 

Well I don't know what the next life holds 
When we're withered down to dust and bones 
There are things you can't take with you when you go 
But I hope, I hope 
Oh I hope, I hope that this ain't one of those

Produced by Matt Morrow 

For my Awesome

One Of Those

We turned 20 in the jungle behind the barrel of a gun
Spent our best years fighting in a war we never won
They called us in a letter and we had to say goodbye
They said it was our duty, but they never told us why

But I still hear the chopper blades and I still smell the smoke
And the ones of us who left there never really made it home
And the people who waited don't know us anymore
We lost so much more than blood fighting somebody else's war

They painted us a picture, said the cause meant so much more
But we were only dog tags, just pawns on a board
They never knew our names but they carved them in the stone
So they could tell our parents that we didn't die alone

I still hear the chopper blades and I still smell the smoke
And the ones of us who left there never really made it home
And the people who waited don't know us anymore
We lost so much more than blood fighting somebody else's war

Sometimes I get visits from the men we left behind
Well you can call them ghosts, but they're just heroes froze in time


Produced by Matt Morrow

A Vietnam Song

You were the talk of a small town
Everybody knows your name
They put your picture in the paper
Right there on the front page
But you were buried with your secrets
So they ain't got much to say
You were the talk of a small town
Whispers and funeral parades

And the Courier ran a story
Printed "Oh, what a shame
he seemed to be such a good man
but just look at the choice he made."
But nobody understands that
Sometimes there ain't no other way
To get out of a small town
Except by going to your grave

And they laid you by your father
while your mother stood so brave
She laid flowers on the markers
While the preacher softly prayed
Well I guess if it was easy
maybe you might have stayed
But you live forever in a small town,
even when death takes you away

But nobody understands that
Sometimes there ain't no other way
You were the talk of a small town
Whispers and funeral parades

Talk Of A Small Town

I play music and drink black coffee and rarely remember to buy anyone a birthday card.

Alex Hendrix