He's the boy I loved

Oh, I'm so sick of this small country town man
stepping in and out of my shadow
He's that child without a game plan
Dreaming of his newlywed wife in a foreign chateau...

He's that boy I once use to love
the boy who woke a sun red whirlwind world
and still follows a moon white dove
down into his pillows: all fearful and furled.

Oh, I'm so sick of this small country town man
He's hear now, honey, holding my hand.
Drawing clouds in, above your angel wingspan
with feet entrenched deep in this moorland.

Man oh man, I’m so sick of this week man
Oh, I wish I'd run faster through them fields
turned a few more cartwheels like a stuntman
Hell, and broke a few more windshields.

But as I ran faster and faster
fast and faster, honey
with him still here at my heels
Its then I had to realize, honey
I had to learn from all my mannish, boyish, ordeals.

Because when a man wants for naught, honey
Not even a barrel load of foreign money
All, else in him really heels.
And that’s when he’s a foundation, a home in you.
That’s when a child or man
Can no longer pretend he’s ten men
Without you!