She thinks about it
Won’t talk about it
That’s where I come in
She gets around it
Can’t seem to find it
That’s when I give in
All your cards and letters
Sittin’ on my desk
Where the light comes in
And every Sunday morn
Writing out your name
Waiting to confess
Telluride
Telluride
On the mountain
Of my mind
Telluride
Telluride
Maybe I can
Get it right
I think about it
I drink about it
That’s where we come in
And we talk about it
Can’t figure out it
With morning coming in
All your cards and letters
Sittin’ on my desk
Where the light comes in
But every Sunday night
With coffee round the room
It’s anybody’s guess
Telluride
Telluride
With the whiskey
By my side
Telluride
Telluride
Maybe I can
Get it right
Something in your heart
Waiting for a spark
Something never mind
Maybe you’ll be kind
Telluride
Telluride
You know my dad he
Was always right
Telluride
Telluride
Find a woman
Won’t let you lie
Telluride
Telluride
Go on before me
And I’ll be blind
Telluride
Telluride
Maybe I can....
About the Creator
Sawyer Phillips
Singer-songwriter recovering from an injury. *Now pursuing a career in creative writing* Black coffee and late night flights. ☕️✈️✨
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