Lyrics

Second Hand Man
© 2010 Wolff Bowden

I hitchhiked from Alaska with an atlas in my veins
I traveled with a tattered dog who taught me how to pray
though the rain it washed my face my bones were made of rust
some days I laid out in the wildflowers just for luck

All I am is a second hand man
hand me down and hand me down again
all my life I’ve tried to write
a song with sticks and sand…
All I am is a second hand man

The radio, I heard it say a hurricane hit Maine
Poor men gathered lobsters like rich girls drink champagne
I fell asleep beneath a sea of papers stained with pens
even when I held my breath I breathed you through my skin

Here we go home, here we go home, here we go home
Here we go home, here we go home, here we go home

I sat outside your window in a pale blue thrift-store suit
Everything I owned was old but oh the night was new
though my heart was barking hard I waited half the night
to knock upon the door when I was sure you were inside

All I am is a second hand man
hand me down and hand me down again
all my life I’ve tried to write
a song with sticks and sand…
All I am is a second hand man
All I am is a second hand man