haney ben - "cant wait for tomorrow"

#

CanÕt wait for tomorrow
By
Benjamin Haney

D C G C pinky on strumming same chords as my opportunity

Alarm clock rings, wake up to the sound
KASE Radio, good morning Bamma Brown
He rolls out of bed, reaches for a glass
How he starts the day, before he goes to class
Hard to live, with his family
High expectations, from the people before me
Come on son, donÕt let us down
He hears 3 times year, when he comes back into town
Gotta prove himself, to everyone
Or live in the shadows, of what others have done
Day by Day, through other peopleÕs eyes,
He Finally accepted, this way of life
So he fixes a drink, to drown his sorrow
Says this toast, CanÕt wait for tomorrow

Ten years later, law firm of his own
30,000 dollars left, in student loans
9 hour days, work through the night
Seems its never done, no end in sight
Got the bills to pay, nice little house
Big screen TV, and wraparound leather couch
Out in the country, past the city limit sign
He hangs his hat, where the people are kind
Barely hanging on, to the woman he loves
Hard to explain, he lives the way he does
He tries to make it up, with things here and there
Flowers once in while, lets her know he cares
Kisses her cheek, to show his sorrow
Whispers goodnight, canÕt wait for tomorrow

Old and Grey, rocking on the porch
Time has passed, not young anymore
Lost a lot of things, along the way
Price for love, too much to pay
All the cases, and overtime work
Million dollars, didnÕt mean nothing to her
Looks to his right, holds out his hand
Smiles and says to her, what a lucky man

Never had to prove himself, to make her happy
Love him for life, make him a granddaddy
So they watch the grandkids, in the yard
CouldnÕt ask for more, as son pulls up in a car
At night before bed, no more sorrow
Prays on his knees, canÕt wait for tomorrow

Now to this day, that old man lives around here
Barely makes it out, of that rocking chair
IÕve seen him fishing, down at onion creek
I drive in my old truck, sometimes he waves at me
He still makes it, to his grandsonÕs baseball game
Tells him every week, thereÕs a spot open in the hall of fame
He walks to an oak tree, on his land everyday
Brings new flowers, where his wife now lays
He tells her about the grandkids, how much theyÕve grown
How much he misses her, he canÕt stand to be alone
A Tear falls down, many more to follow
Says IÕll always come back, canÕt wait for tomorrow

0 Comments