Which Side Of The Glass - George Strait

In a second story window

Framed in lace

There she is again

Sitting staring into space

Thinking back to better days

Dealing with the pain

Some folks think it’s teardrops

Me, I think it’s rain

And there it is

The cold hard truth

So plain to see

The living proof

Where do you stand?

What’s your point of view?

I guess it all depends on

Which side of the glass

You’re looking through

Beneath a neon chandelier

He leans on polished oak

And orders one more whiskey

Lights another smoke

He shivers at the memory

And trembles as he stirs

Some folks think it’s him

But me, I think it’s her

I turn towards the mirror

It’s time to face the facts

Looking for the reason

You’re not ever coming back

Oh, I guess it all depends on

Which side of the glass

You’re looking through