(Verse 1)
Dust motes dance in the dim light, a familiar haze,
At the Covered Wagon, I lose myself in these days.
This worn-out seat, molded to my weary frame,
A throne of shadows, whispering a forgotten name.
The clatter of pool balls, a deceptive chime,
Sounds like the church bells, mocking the passage of time.
Each whiskey neat, a question I try to drown,
Searching for answers in this smoke-filled town.
(Chorus)
Oh, the Covered Wagon, my confessional booth,
Where the amber liquid whispers a bitter truth.
The smoke a blanket, a solace for my restless soul,
As the phantom father's story takes its toll.
The ringing of the dinner bell, a mournful plea,
Lost in the echo of the church bell tolling for me.
(Verse 2)
This bar, it knows my secrets, every sin and every tear,
The bartender's quiet nod, a silent form of cheer.
He's seen the rise and fall, the hope and the despair,
Reflected in the mirror, a man beyond repair.
They talk of the father, a whisper on the breeze,
A life unlived, a shadow that still does appease.
The pool balls scatter, a chaotic, jarring sound,
Like memories of sermons, lost and never found.
(Chorus)
Oh, the Covered Wagon, my confessional booth,
Where the amber liquid whispers a bitter truth.
The smoke a blanket, a solace for my restless soul,
As the phantom father's story takes its toll.
The ringing of the dinner bell, a mournful plea,
Lost in the echo of the church bell tolling for me.
(Bridge)
Some seek redemption, some seek a fleeting high,
I just seek the silence beneath this smoky sky.
The weight of a father I never knew, a constant ache,
A story unfinished, for goodness gracious sake.
These walls have heard it all, the laughter and the cries,
But tonight, it's just the whiskey and the longing in my eyes.
(Chorus)
Oh, the Covered Wagon, my confessional booth,
Where the amber liquid whispers a bitter truth.
The smoke a blanket, a solace for my restless soul,
As the phantom father's story takes its toll.
The ringing of the dinner bell, a mournful plea,
Lost in the echo of the church bell tolling for me.
(Outro)
Another drink, another thought, another whispered name,
Lost in the haze, playing this lonely game.
The church bells fade, the dinner bell rings no more,
Just the quiet hum of the Covered Wagon floor.
LennyMcCoy
