dead leaves and the dirty ground when I know you're not around
shiny tops and soda pops when i hear you lips make a sound
when i hear you lips make a sound
thirty notes in the mailbox will tell you that i'm coming home
i didn't feel so bad til the sun went down
then i come home
no one to wrap my arms around
wrap my arms around
well any man with a microphone can tell you what loves the most