Trisha Yearwood - I Don't Paint Myself Into Corners
(Rebecca Lynn Howard/Trey Bruce)
It took a while for me to see things as they were
In the light of truth
It wasn't you,it was me
I let myself get used to drowning in the hurt
Against the wall
Who'd of thought,it was me
From there I couldn't even look over my shoulder
I kicked down all the walls and started all over
And I don't paint myself into corners anymore
In a brittle heart of clay
I threw my brushes away
The tools of the trade that chained your memory to me
Are out the door
I don't paint myself into corners anymore
When you left you left me with no other choice at all
But to sink
To my knees,and cry
I never knew just how far a soul could fall
Like a rock
I couldn't stop,didn't try
I locked myself behind shades of misery
But when I let you go,I set myself free
And I don't paint myself into corners anymore
In a brittle heart of clay
I threw my brushes away
The tools of the trade that chained your memory to me
Are out the door
I don't paint myself into corners anymore
The tools of the trade that chained your memory to me
Are out the door
I don't paint myself into corners anymore
It took a while for me to see things as they were
In the light of truth
It wasn't you,it was me
I let myself get used to drowning in the hurt
Against the wall
Who'd of thought,it was me
From there I couldn't even look over my shoulder
I kicked down all the walls and started all over
And I don't paint myself into corners anymore
In a brittle heart of clay
I threw my brushes away
The tools of the trade that chained your memory to me
Are out the door
I don't paint myself into corners anymore
When you left you left me with no other choice at all
But to sink
To my knees,and cry
I never knew just how far a soul could fall
Like a rock
I couldn't stop,didn't try
I locked myself behind shades of misery
But when I let you go,I set myself free
And I don't paint myself into corners anymore
In a brittle heart of clay
I threw my brushes away
The tools of the trade that chained your memory to me
Are out the door
I don't paint myself into corners anymore
The tools of the trade that chained your memory to me
Are out the door
I don't paint myself into corners anymore
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