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Miller Bill The Art Of Survival Broken Bottles About three miles up that run down road There's an old town dump with some fools gold Just waiting for a bandit's hand to steal What one soul lost I'd always find It's wild what some folk leave behind But a poor boys dreams can always make it real CHORUS: Cause I threw stones at broken bottles I washed my hands in God's rainwater I found treasure others wouldn't claim I threw stones at broken bottles Took what this life had to offer And I let it shine when others make it rain Let it shine when others make it rain Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine When others make it rain While driving through the promised land Out there in the drifting sand I saw a boy who looked at lot like me. As I rolled my window down I yelled across that one-horse town I said, don't give up boy, you've got the right to dream! (REPEAT CHORUS) |
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