Lyrics : Greyson Chance/Christian A Medice
Music : Greyson Chance/Christian A Medice
I can see the sky for miles
I can see that time so clear
When you told me forever
Was a word that I should not fear
I can see you driving and smoking
Virginia Slims on the dash
On that day I was crying
You stopped the car looked back
You said
Boy get the message
This ain't no New York City
Born and bred in West Texas
Raised you to be different
No matter how it ends
No matter all your sin
I hope you will understand
When I leave you better be a good man
I can see that house in the summer
Baseball in the yard
And when my knees got bloody
You told me keep playing hard
I remember mass on Sundays
Collared up to the ten
You were so d**n faithful
Even if it all was a mess
And in those years that we weren't speaking
When I was drinking for some meaning
You called me on the phone and then you said
Boy get the message
This ain't no New York City
Born and bred in West Texas
Raised you to be different
No matter how it ends
No matter all your sin
I hope you will understand
When I leave you better be a good man
You better be a good man
And it's so hard to imagine
What I'll do without you here
As you gaze your eyes towards mine
Tell me to wipe away those tears
You say Jesus loves you
Always will no matter what you've did
And in that moment I'm a kid again
You said
Boy get the message
This ain't no New York City
Born and bred in West Texas
Raised you to be different
No matter how it ends
No matter all your sin
I hope you will understand
When I leave you better be a good man
You better be a good man