Nowhere in this heart of mine can I find    ill will toward you    and I have looked both long and hard   for the words to bully up the truth   it always comes back to you    right back down to you       Trouble was your mother’s milk    her bible belt busted in two    your brother tall and desperate   a surrogate to drive the blame into you    to drive it all back to you    right back down to you       The windshield cracked up by your head    a spider web the neighbors gathered around    pulled that car up by the house    a man in boots kicked that windshield out    kicking it all back to you   right back down to you       A red steak and a Canadian Club    America loves a lighthearted drunk    in the rain down on one knee    tragically trying to live up.