John R. Miller
Faustina
It was days-on-end in a minivan
It was looking for an X on the map
Long nights shaking in a stranger's house
With a bottle in my lap
Running from the deafening sound
Of a future with no one around
From Barcelona to Vestal's Gap
And I've spent countless hours walking among the rank-and-file
Praying to some vague set of eyes that it's only for a while
Now I kneel before the only things I know
This set of keys, and I-told-you-so's
That someday it'll be worth the miles
It was cigarettes outside an empty bar
On a dark December morning
Months of bad food and a pauper's guitar
Never heeding any warning
I've had friends and I've let my friends down
Lookin for my heart in the lost-and-found
Bare hands trying to stop the rain from pouring
And I've been gaining on the crack of dawn, with glass eyes and a smile
Praying St. Faustina please, let me go out in style
I'll never know how far down it goes
Til the devil reaps what I have sown
Til then, I'm gonna feel every mile
From Letras Mania