I got a postcard with an old address
A picture of Houston, in a beat-up mess
Just to remind me that it all went wrong
Just to beat me up, just to turn me on
CHORUS
Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper, burnin' in my hands
VERSE II
Cigarettes in the glove box, with the classified ads
Ashes and silver, worn into your hands
"I gotta see you", on a bar napkin
Gas station quarters, I got to see you again
CHORUS
Somewhere there's a letter, that I never sent
It used to read pretty, now it's empty as
That night in the headlights, with the blankets pressed
Was it somethin' to you, baby? Was it always just . . .
CHORUS (then repeat)
Burnin' in my hands, burnin' in my hands