My luck has gone bad, but it’s something I can’t return.
I’ve no more lifelines, no more shortcuts I can learn.
If you see me knocking, it’s in your interest to ignore me.
But when I get back home she’ll be there waiting,
And I’ll forget why I am angry.
She’s the sunlight to my morning.
She’s the moon when day is done.
She’s like a bird when she is singing.
She’s my shelter when I’m on the run.
When my luck runs dry she always pours me some.
You know that feeling, that feeling only felt when you’re alone.
What was once a small town, seems to be where the whole world decides to go.
Then the streets seem colder, and a pessimistic outcome’s all you see.
Then she holds your hand and you think, well how bad can this city be?
She’s the sunlight to my morning.
She’s the moon when day is done.
She’s like a bird when she is singing.
She’s my shelter when I’m on the run.
When my luck runs dry she always pours me some.
When my luck runs dry she always pours me some.
West Virginia country-folk singer-songwriter Trae Sheehan aims to find a balance between the traditional and the modern on his new LP. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 29, 2020