The Word Lyrics

Those empty bottles on the wall

No they ain't empty at all

Each one is filled up with a good time

Or a night that I can't seem to recall

That pretty vase sits by the bed

And it's filled with flowers long dead

The window blinds

I keep them shut now

And she's just a ghost that haunts my head

But there's a book on the mantle chock full of the word

And it crackles open like a creaky old door

Somehow I always find a verse

Even when I'm at my worst

There's a book on the mantle chock full of the word

The garden's only got weeds and stones

She was right about reaping what I'd sown

My row to hoe's watered with tears now

And the work put in aches deep in my bones

A shadow on the wall in the morning sun

I turn to look but there's no one

Praying it's an angel floating about my house

If Id've made a turn she'd be coming around

And I just can't live with myself

But there's a book on the mantle chock full of the word

And it crackles open like a creaky old door

Somehow I always find a verse

Even when I'm at my worst

There's a book on the mantle chock full of the word

There's a book on the mantle chock full of the word

And it crackles open like a creaky old door

Somehow I always find a verse

Even when I'm at my worst

There's a book on the mantle chock full of the word

There's a book on the mantle chock full of the word

And it crackles open like a creaky old door

Somehow I always find a verse

Even when I'm at my worst