Should’ve made it clear
Would’ve washed it all away
Could’ve been just another thing
But then there wouldn’t be a song to sing.
Shoulda, woulda, coulda
Paints the past with a brush that was never meant to last.
Should’ve seen your crazy
Would’ve went the other way
Could’ve called your bluff
I guess I just can’t ever get enough.
Shoulda, woulda, coulda
Frays the moral fabric in the forgiven footprint of forever.
Should’ve kept you safe
Would’ve held your hand
Could’ve carried you all the way home
But I looked around and found you gone.
Shoulda, woulda, coulda
Always puts perspective beneath the purpose of the present.
Should’ve said it sideways
Would’ve whispered the wanted truth
Could’ve kept it hidden from you
But then you lost your shoe and you seemed a little blue.
Shoulda, woulda, coulda
Never did a damn thing
Except manifest into your wildest dream.
BeLove © 2018











My roots are buried in the Dirty South. I grew up learning the importance of God and Southern Charm. I began writing in my late teens mostly through heartbreak and music. I moved out west 15 years ago and live right around the corner from the Fountain Of Youth. Most people refer to it as Lake Tahoe. I play Chef during the day and search for ways to save the world by night, through reading, writing, and believing. I enjoy the side of life that is less abrasive. I look forward to joining you on my quest through Spiritual Sobriety with the Promised Land as our ultimate destination.

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