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Empty (Live From Bonaroo) - Ray LaMontagne
She lifts her skirt up to her knees
Walks through the garden
Rows with her bare feet laughing
I never learned to count my blessings
I choose instead to dwell in my disasters
Walk on down the hill
Through the grass
Grown tall and brown
And still it's hard somehow to
Let go of my pain
On past the busted back
Of that old and rusted Cadillac
That sinks into this field collecting rain
Will I always feel this way
So empty so estranged
Of these cutthroat busted sunsets
These cold and damp
White mornings I have grown weary
If through my cracked
And dusty country lips
I spoke these words out loud
Would no one hear me
Lay your blouse across the chair
Let fall the flowers from your hair
And kiss me with
That country mouth so plain
Outside the rain is tapping on the leaves
To me it sounds like they're applauding us
The quiet love we make
Will I always feel this way
So empty so estranged
