Bamboo Plants

Fucking with a guitar that won’t stay in tune
I left my good one in my bedroom
Haven’t been home in a while
Stopped showing up at my job
Had a talk with God saying that’s not want my heart wants
I think He’ll figure it out
I’m sure I’ll make it some other way
I’ll make it some other way
Mail is piling up at my front door
All my bamboo plants are probably dead by now
Neighbors wondering where the hell I went
And if my check for rent will ever be sent somehow
I think they’ll figure it out
Think they’ll figure out
Old Judy’s waiting on the porch to hear my sound
I remind her of her granddaughter that she’s lost to a different crowd
She says she’s stuck drinking tall cans overseas
Old Judy don’t you know that alcohol is a disease?
And It still rattles me, it still lives inside of me
I think she’ll figure it out
She’ll figure it out
I think she’ll figure it out
Think she’ll figure it out
Mail is piling up at my front door
All my bamboo plants are probably dead by now
Neighbors wondering where the hell I went
And if my check for rent will ever be sent somehow
I think they’ll figure it out
I think they’ll figure out
Panic revealed on your kitchen floor
You hold me close, say it makes you love me more
And that my wreckage won’t make you run
Our dogs are howling in the yard
As I’m star gazing laying on a plastic lawn
If you come closer… I bet I’ll make you come
I think you’ll figure it out
You’ll figure it out
I think you’ll figure it out
You’ll figure it out
Mail is piling up at my front door
All my bamboo plants are probably dead by now
Neighbors wondering where the hell I went
And if my check for rent will ever be sent somehow
They’ll figure it out
I think they’ll figure out
They’ll figure it out
I’m sure they’ll make it some other way
They’ll make it some other way
I think they’ll figure it out
Like I figured It out