Thumbing My Way (Live in New York - July 8, 2003)

I have not been home since you left long ago. I'm thumbing my way back to heaven. Counting steps. Walking backwards on the road. I'm counting my way back to heaven. I can't be free with what's locked inside of me. If there was a key you took it in your hands. There's no wrong or right but I'm sure there's good and bad. The questions linger overhead. No matter how cold the winter, there's a spring time ahead. I'm thumbing my way back to heaven. I'd wish that I could hold you. I'd wish that I had. Thinking about heaven. I let go of a rope. Thinking that's what held me back. And in time I've realized it's now wrapped around my neck. I can't see what's next from this lonely overpass. Hang my head and count my steps as another car goes past. All the rusted signs we ignore throughout our lives. Choosing the shiny ones instead. I turned my back. Now there's not turning back. No matter how cold the winter, there's a spring time ahead. I smile but who am I kidding. I'm just walking the miles. Every once in a while I get a ride. I'm thumbing my way back to heaven. (x3)