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He took the freeway coming home Code red day grays into evening Thankful for the drive alone Neon indicates a warning Find my baby, her mother said And so they lit the sign Praying that some lonesome trucker sees Something suspicious on the road tonight
One lost baby won’t be coming home tonight One lost baby on the open road Salt tears on her pillow for all the losses hold One lost baby traveling on her own One lost baby traveling on her own
And he recalls the night he knew That he would run from those who they would save him Turn those blue jeans in for dress blues Sign the line and sail away, then Can’t forget his sisters’ crying The day he marched away But even so, he just can’t regret The first decision he ever made
One lost baby won’t be coming home tonight One lost baby on the open road Salt tears on his pillow for all the losses hold One lost baby traveling on his own One lost baby traveling on his own
Haven’t talked to dad since Christmas He thinks of this as he flips on the headlights The paternal silent witness To all the tremors, never once contrite He can’t forgive, so he just stands back He’s living in the aftershock Driving roads that will not take him back Heading for the only truth he’s got
One lost baby won’t be coming home tonight One lost baby on the open road Salt tears on his pillow for all the losses hold One lost baby traveling on his own One lost baby traveling on his own
[This message has been edited by blakeh (edited 09-02-2002).]
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"The standard by which I now measure the things in my life is the following: If I was on my death bed, or if I knew I had a short time to live, would this issue be important? If the answer is no.. I don't sweat it at all. If the answer is Yes, you better believe it goes to the front of the order of today's business!" -Brian Austin Whitney
