Chair Left Warm

You brought me home in your old Chevy,

October rain on a gravel road.

Two green eyes in a Walmart blanket,

You said "Lord, what did we bring home?"

Didn't know a thing about love yet,

Me and you both,

just kids.

I tore up your mama's curtains,

Slept on your boots by the door.

Learned that you come home at midnight,

Learned what those keys were for.

Every time you slammed that screen door,

I knew you were home for good.

I had nine lives,

darlin', I gave you all nine,

Every sunrise, every hard night.

I was just a cat on paper,

But I loved you like a man should love a wife -

Steady, stubborn, for life.

And when that sun hits the kitchen floor,

You'll see me there in the dust sometimes,

In the chair you left warm.

Now I'm slow gettin' up the stairs,

Can't chase nothing anymore.

Lay my head down on your work shirt,

'Cause it smells like 2019 and before.

Doc says it's time,

you say "not yet,"

We both know what time it is.

So don't you bury me out in the cold,

Put me where the garden grows.

And when another stray finds your porch,

You give him my name,

give him my bowl.

I had nine lives,

darlin', I gave you all nine,

Wasn't much, but boy,

it was mine. I was just a cat on paper,

But I loved you like a prayer.

So when that sun hits the kitchen floor tomorrow,

Don't cry

too long, just leave that chair warm.