Song Length |
4:45 |
Genre |
Folk - Rock |
Lead Vocal |
Female Vocal |
| |
Lyrics
Sandusky
©1998 Whit Hill
I drive to Sandusky, an hour each way.
My wife says she loves me, every day.
I think I am thankful, but who?s to say?
I drive to Sandusky, an hour each way.
I drive through the country, I like the view.
I take my communion, wouldn?t you?
Sometimes there?s a woman, halfway home.
I drive through the country.
But every night I shake a tumbler and I crumble to the floor
I?m like an old, imploding highrise no one lives in anymore.
And when Miranda hovers over me I tell her I?m just fine
I sleep the sleep of sour sustenance,
Til morning brings the time when I must
I make decent money, we get by.
I may get promoted in July.
I might get into heaven, I volunteer.
I make decent money.
And when Miranda flutters round me like a bug around a fire
I slam the door and stalk these subdivision street
Til it is time for me to
Drive to Sandusky
The rising sun it hurts my eyes.
But I?ll come home, don?t you worry, tonight.
My little daughter she climbs on my knee to say
Won?t you tell me daddy, what do you do every day?
I say I drive to Sandusky
Any kind of light it hurts my eyes
But I?m come home don?t you worry, tonight.