This Lyric is #151

Better

Steve Brown © 2003

Weeping willow in the front yard

Never seemed so all alone

Those who tell you that the leaving’s tough

Have never tried the coming home

No one comes around to this old place

I always planned to come by soon

Used to call and ask him how he was

Every Sunday afternoon

He’d say

Better, better

I’ve been better

Its been longer than I’d care to tell

I’ve set my feet upon this porch

I can close my eyes and hear him yell

“Son, don’t you slam that door”

Neither one of us would give an inch

We argued every chance we got

I knew he worked long nights at Grayson’s mill

I never knew how hard he fought

To make life

Better, better

to make it better

BRIDGE:

I never heard the conversations

Or knew just what he’d sacrificed

To give his children more than he had

He lived his life

To make mine

Better, better

to make it better

Gravel driveway and a meadowlark

And that weeping willow tree

This old place was everything he had

And he left it all to me

I never understood a thing he did

‘Til I had children of my own

Now I go out Sunday afternoons

And make a promise to a stone

That I’ll do

Better, better

I’ll be better