Would you believe if I said that I'd dye his hair a thousand nights from now? My wedding dress, our baby's breath, rolling off my back somehow. And would you believe if I said that he was just a two-hearted kind of man? One to break you apart, the other to pick me up inside his grizzly hands. Bessie goes blonde, 'cause her life moves on. Twenty-four, there's so much more. I pick my halo up when it falls on the floor. My first-string tears, those stacked up beers. Is this really how you're supposed to measure out all these years? And would you believe if I said that I'd color his hair a thousand nights from now? My wedding dress, our baby's breath, rolling off my back somehow. Whoa.
Sat. Nite Duets Milwaukee, Wisconsin
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