Two, three, four
♪
Wesley got up and turned the TV off
With the pillow off the couch
I knew something was wrong
The look on his face was a blank, worried glare
The gaze in his eyes left me stranded right there
Like something was pressing or causing him fear
And right at that very moment
I lost connection with the eyes of strangers
A lonely child who drank from a well
Wesley would tuck me in every night
And say my prayers to keep from goin' to Hell
The thought of some tribulation
Put me out and always up on the run
From the bullets of a psychological gun
♪
Mama wasn't home and brother had gone
Someone come quick or sound an alarm
To the blue collared king who I called my dad
Ate some kind of poison was drivin' him mad
Staring out storm windows while choking back tears
When Wesley started pacing the monster was near
Stole my connection with the eyes of strangers
A lonely child who drank from a well
Wesley would tuck me in every night
And say my prayers to keep from siding with Hell
The sense of some tribulation
Got me riding dirty, always up on the run
From the bullets of a psychological gun
♪
The Embarrass River where I was baptized
Runs deep and wide in the heart of my mind
Like Wesley's tattered old bible, red flannel shirt
The smell of the corn being cut in the dirt
Life would be great if you just wait and see
That everything is fine and Jesus loves thee
Missed connection in the eyes of strangers
A lonely child who drank from a well
He loves Wesley, who tucked me in every night
And said our prayers 'cause he was goin' through Hell
See daddy's curse had become my blessing
Shaped the life that shot me straight for the sun
God loaded the bullets of that psychological gun
God aimed the barrel of that psychological gun
God pulled the trigger of that psychological gun