Written by: Billy Dean, Tim Nichols



She puts up with my coffee cup

Ringing her dining room table

She don't mind those Friday nights

When she has to drive cause I'm unstable



She goes to church while I oversleep

I'm not sure what she sees in me



CHORUS:

Thank god for small favors

The Sunday paper and the taste of homemade wine

Second chances and the healing hands of time

And thank god love is blind



Somehow she knows I love her so

Though I don't always show her

She only sees the good in me

But with me she has to look closer



Lord, I guess I owe you one

She thinks I hung the moon and the sun



REPEAT CHORUS