my mother brought me into this garden first
taught me to weed by working deep down in the earth
and while I was clutching dirt, I was struck, I was hurt:
all that grows so thirsts

once my father said he would read me to bed
worn down from the job he had to keep me fed
but I was too old and I, blushing red, yelled instead
never was the same ahead

now, every night I come to town
all I ever think about
are all the times I let you down
for all the times I let you down

thank you, Derrick Watson, in a hundred years you'll be read
for shade 'neath and orange sun with a mighty pen and a level head
and although it may be little praise, my friends and I think you're great
for what you've done today

now I spend most my time in this room, writing tunes
locked up in my point of view, feeling blue
but as soon as I put on my shoe and walk outside, and I'm with you
that's when I learn something new

still every morn I stumble through
a silver light so bright and true
'til it turns a-gray rain coming soon
yeah, turns a-gray rain coming soon