Hunting Trip

Next to your favorite tools

A thermos keeps your warm

Wearing hand-me-down boots

That your father had worn

You wear a winter hat

And with your freezing hands

You keep your finger on the trigger

But you just sit and stare

At the grass moving in the morning breeze

You said the dirt felt softer down on your knees

And now you look at your hands

And they start to shake

And now you look at your hands

And they don't look the same

In the pickup truck that your father died in

You have pictures of your brother playing with his three kids

And then you look at your hands

And they start to shake

And then you look at your hands

And they don't look the same

You're red-eyed on the ride home

Back from your mother's house

Where she was on her seventh glass

And now you're filled with doubt

That you'll ever be something in her eyes

Something so much more

Than just the reason that she started drinking for

You can't ever go back

I know you want to

I know you want to

You can't ever go back

I know you want to

I know you want to

It was on that hunting trip when you were a kid

You lost your father

Now you can't hide from it