Drop The Flowers From My Hand
(David Blackmore) video

There's darkness in here,
all the lights are on,
If you could look into my mind,
you'd see something's gone wrong;
There's a cold atmosphere
as I walk into our home,
Why do I feel I'm not here alone?

It's Friday night,
and the work week is done,
This is our night to loosen up
and have a little fun;
But as I come through the door,
I hear whispers in the gloom,
My body starts to tremble and
I climb the stairs to our room.

Do I just walk on in,
knowing you're holding him,
The chuckles and laughter,
you must be close friends;
As I reach to open our bedroom door,
I don't think I can,
I head back down the stairs
and drop the flowers from my hand.

The pictures on the wall,
you're all dressed in white lace,
Standing next to you,
I was happy to take my place;
Every picture tells a story,
this is what I'm told,
When we said I do,
it was with you I wanted to grow old.

Now like an outlaw in the cowboy days,
I feel like a fugitive,
To turn back time and make things right,
oh what I wouldn't give;
A horse without a saddle,
a train without a track,
As the embers in the fire burn out,
my whole world went black.

Do I just walk on in,
knowing you're holding him,
The chuckles and laughter,
you must be close friends;
As I reach to open our bedroom door,
I don't think I can,
So, I head back down the stairs
and drop the flowers from my hand.
So, I head back down the stairs
and drop the flowers from my hand.

####.... David Blackmore of Port aux Basques, NL, and Halifax, Nova Scotia. Performing rights administered by SOCAN. All rights reserved ....####

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