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Dust on Your Side of the Bed

Dust on Your Side of the Bed

Michelle Johnson
3 plays 1.4K likes Publish

Song Details

Country, Southern Rock, male vocalist, gritty soulful, tragic melancholic, addiction lost love, slide guitar acoustic, raw dusty analog sound
Genre
Country
Mood
Sad 😢、Emotional 😣、Lonely 🏝️
Scene
Emotional Healing、Heart break
Vocal Type
Male Vocal
Duration
4:14
Plays
3
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Lyrics

[Verse 1]

Ashtray full of second tries

Coffee gone cold in July

Your jacket’s still on that same old chair

But you ain’t walked through that door in years

I keep your boots by the bedroom wall

Like you might call

Say you’re comin’ home

Talkin’ to the air like it talks back

Wearin’ out the groove on this old track

[Chorus]

Now it’s me and this bottle and a half-made bed

Talkin’ ’bout a life that we almost had

You were my shelter

I was your storm instead

Now there’s dust on your side of the bed

Every swallow’s just a slow goodbye

Burns my throat while it dulls my mind

I traded your touch for a shot to the head

Now there’s dust on your side of the bed

[Verse 2]

Found your note in a kitchen drawer

Said

“I love you

But I can’t anymore”

You begged me hard to just put it down

I just laughed and poured another round

Now your picture’s crooked in that frame

My hands still shake when I say your name

I see you clear in the bathroom mirror

Standin’ right there

Then you disappear (oh no)

[Chorus]

So it’s me and this bottle and a half-made bed

Talkin’ ’bout a life that we almost had

You were my shelter

I was your storm instead

Now there’s dust on your side of the bed

Every swallow’s just a slow goodbye

Burns my throat while it dulls my mind

I traded your touch for a shot to the head

Now there’s dust on your side of the bed

[Bridge]

One day this heart’s gonna give out first

Or this habit will drag me in the dirt

Either way

Girl

I know it ends the same

Just a lonely room and a broken name (yeah)

[Chorus]

It’s still me and this bottle and a half-made bed

Talkin’ ’bout a life that we almost had

You were my shelter

I was your storm instead

Now there’s dust on your side of the bed

Every swallow’s just a slow goodbye

Burns my throat while it kills my pride

If I ever get clean of what I did and said

Will there still be dust on your side of the bed?

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