This Mess I’ve Made
He washed his life down the drain, with a bottle of whiskey, he lost it all
Until he came to his senses, he told everybody, it wasn’t his fault
One morning, with splittin’ head, looking at pictures hangin on the wall
He thought about his wife and his kids and his life, before his fall
He shattered a glass and stood as the tears streamed down his face
He shouted at the top of his lungs and said, I can’t live this way
CHORUS
He said the man, that I am, and the man, that I’m supposed to be
Are so, far apart; and I can’t stand, not being free
I’ve got to turn this around
I’ve got to find firm ground
Oh Lord, can you fix this mess I’ve made
He hadn’t seen the sunshine in three or four days, so he went on outside
He grabbed the only friend he had left, an old hound, and they went for a ride
Driving down an old dirt road, to the church, where his grandad was laid
He can’t believe he turned his back, on the way he’d been raised
He said the man, that I am, and the man, that I’m supposed to be
Are so, far apart; and I can’t stand, not being free
I’ve got to turn this around
I’ve got to find firm ground
Oh Lord, can you fix this mess I’ve made
When he looked up he saw her white hair, and eyes full of tears
She’d brought flowers to visit her husband of fifty-one years
She said we almost lost each other, after that war, he was out of his head
Then one day he had enough, he stood up, and you know what he said?
He said the man, that I am, and the man, that I’m supposed to be
Are so, far apart; and I can’t stand, not being free
I’ve got to turn this around
I’ve got to find firm ground
Oh Lord, can you fix this mess I’ve made