Dead leaves and the dirty ground
When I know you're not around
Shiny pops and soda pops
When I hear your tips make a sound
Thirty notes in the mailbox
Will tell you that I'm coming home
And I think I'm gonna stick around
For a while so you're not alone
If you can hear a piano fall
You can hear me coming down the hall
If I could just hear your pretty voice
I don't think I need to see at all
Soft hair and a velvet tongue
I want to give you what you give to me
And every breath that is in your lungs
Is a tiny little gift to me
I didn't feel so bad till the sun went down
Then I come home
No one to wrap my arms around
Well any man with a microphone
Can tell you what he loves the most
And you know why you love at all
If you're thinking of the holy ghost
Writer(s): John Anthony White
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