Stray Paper - Tift Merritt

I got a postcard with an old address

A picture of Houston in a beat-up mess

Just to remind me that it all went wrong

Just to beat me up, just to turn me on

Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper

Burning in my hands

Cigarettes in the glove box with the classified ads

Ashes and silver worn into your hands

«I got to see you» on a bar napkin

Gas station quarters, I got to see you again

Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper

Burning in my hands

Somewhere there’s a letter that I never sent

It used to read pretty, now it’s empty as

That night in the headlights with the blankets pressed

Was it something to you baby, or was it always just

Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper

Burning in my hands

Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper

Burning in my hands

Burning in my hands

Burning in my hands