Powder

[Verse 1]
You shouldn’t be driving high
Powder your churches, stole the medal
Missouri winter wheat
Colors that feel just like shelves of dust
Yeah at home your sick
Don’t have the energy to take the bus
Then another long ride home
I got tired of leaving in the dark

[Verse 2]
And you feel, that someone’s hiding ‘round in the bushes
I bet she keeps time, I wash my washcloth
And they say, these things will happen to me someday
I wish I could tell you, it runs in the family