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I believe it began innocently enough: a handful of highs, a couple of months.
Wandering winter to the south and the sun, as the ice came for Texas again.
I got lost for a love that was jagged and just.
I could never unspin, never unfrost. So I turned
with the hills to the Amarillo dust, followed by a song youâd singâ¦
You try to let the river in, you try to let it all roll on.
Try to let the river in â you try to let it all roll on.
You think a little bit like a thief. You feel
a moment beyond what you see.
So I buried my fear in the ditch with my pride, learned how to move
as the sudden crow flies. I could never be yours; I am not even mine.
Iâm a feather on a finer wing.
And in the room to my right, Joey huddled up cold with a melody I made
but knew couldnât hold. He stole the bell
from the center of my soul, struck it how itâs meant to ring.
You try to let the river in â you try to let it all roll on.
Thinking a little more like a thief, we felt around
for a crack or a key. Joey and me, we only had a dozen decent ends.
But Joey and me, we had these thousand good beginnings,
so here we go again.
and I will try to let the river in â Iâll try to let it all roll on.
You try to let the river in â try to let it all roll on. Weâll try
to let the river in, try to let it all roll on.