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[Verse 1] He’d come home smelling like sawdust Boots by the door, dirt on his jeans Coffee cup full of cigarette ashes Kitchen light buzzing soft on the scene He’d say, “Boy, the world can get heavy” Then hum as he washed off the day Pull out a tattered old notebook And chase all his troubles away [Chorus] I learned about life from the songs that he sang From a three–chord prayer and a worn-out twang Heartbreak and hope in a calloused man’s hands He wrote what he lived, and I finally understand Every line ’bout a broken-down truck, every small–town plan Was just my daddy’s life In ink on my daddy’s hands [Verse 2] He’d stare out the back porch at midnight Talk low to the dark and the stars Scratch out a verse on the rail post Say, “Truth’s cheaper than therapy, by far” He never got rich on those stories Just bar tabs and a tip jar grin But folks came to listen on Fridays ’Cause they heard a piece of themselves in him [Chorus] [Bridge] Now I’m the one under neon Picking the strings where he stood Singing his words with a crack in my voice ’Cause I feel ’em deeper than I ever thought I could I used to think he wrote fiction Now standing here holding this pen I see every line was confession And I’m starting it all up again [Chorus]