It's 2:30 in the morning, pop song is popping over the air The steam is rolling off the road after the rain I'm here but not really there I stop at the Waffle House in town looking for a sign It's quiet now in the night the whole place is mine I look at my watch and I think of what Rob Thomas sings He's lonely at 3 and she don't sleep until the rain Oh what images that song brings Rob, sing to me about my pain Push me around, and bend me into shape Get it back to good, because I've laid too many lies Show me my season, make my world real while I wait Cure me of my lonliness and take away my hate And if you are gone, call me from the rest stop to hand me a world I didn't create I get back in the car my jacket is wet and I am cold My soul isn't even twenty but I'm feeling more than that old I drove towards home I know it's just as dark there Only lights around are coming from me and silence is everwhere Turning on the radio a Rob Thomas vocal is what I heard I stopped paying attention to the world and sang it word for word Rob, sing to me about my pain Push me around, and bend me into shape Get it back to good, because I've laid too many lies Show me my season, make my world real while I wait Cure me of my lonliness and take away my hate And if you are gone, call me from the rest stop to hand me a world I didn't create Rolling into the driveway I'm turning off the car I'm listening to the rain on the window and letting myself fall away far Why am I like this? Why can't I forget my mind? I sought out the answers but there was nothing to find Maybe if I write the writer a song and put my heart in black and white he'll sing it to me over and over and make it all right Rob, sing to me about my pain Push me around, and bend me into shape Get it back to good, because I've laid too many lies Show me my season, make my world real while I wait Cure me of my lonliness and take away my hate And if you are gone, call me from the rest stop to hand me a world I didn't create He'll sing it to me over and over and make it all right And if he's gone, he'll call me from the rest stop to hand me a world I created tonight |
"He'll Sing It To Me" |
©2001 by Rebecca J. Burke & Hashbrown Casserole for the Matchbox Twenty Soul, Inc. |
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This song was written one lonely night when the only things that could help me were the kind words of Rob. Dedicated to him and his work...thank you. |