What I Almost Was

It was my senior year; I'd just turned eighteen.

I was a Friday night hero with division one dreams.

I had an offer on the table; a four year ride,

Till that fourth an' two and twenty-four died.

I left on a stretcher, wound up on a crutch.

Walked on that next summer, wound up getting cut.

I flipped off that coach, left that school in the dust,

For lettin' my dreams go bust,

But now I thank God I ain't what I almost was.

Yeah, I moved on back home an' came awful close,

To bein' some son-in-law to some C.O.

Coulda been a corner office, country club suit-an'-tie man.

Answerin' to no-one but her an' him.

I ran out on his money, ran out on her love;

At four in the mornin', I loaded my truck.

I left my home town in a big cloud of dust,

I just had to follow my gut,

But now I thank God I ain't what I almost was.

:. Instrumental Break .:

In guitar-town, I bought this ol' Epiphone,

Started stringin' chords an' words into songs.

I been puttin' in time on 16th Avenue;

Pourin'out my heart for tips on a stool.

I ain't makin' a killin' but then there's those nights,

When the song comes together an' hits 'em just right.

The crowd's on their feet 'cause they can't get enough,

Of this music. I'm making, I love,

An' I thank God I ain't;

Yeah, I thank God I ain't;

An' I thank God I ain't what I almost was.