I got a postcard with an old address A picture of Houston in a beat up mess Just to remind me that it all went wrong Just to beat me up, just to turn me on
Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper Burnin' in my hands
Cigarettes in the glove box with the classified ads Ashes and silver worn into your hands I got to see you on a bar napkin Gas station quarters, I got to see you again
Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper
Burnin' in my hands
Somewhere there's a letter that I never sent It used to read pretty, now it's empty as That night in the headlights with the blankets pressed Was it something to you baby, was it always just
Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper Burnin' in my hands
Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper Burnin' in my hands Burnin' in my hands Burnin' in my hands