Branson sittin on a road behind her a hundred miles out of her home town Drops a quarter in a beat up pay phone Listens to it rattle on down Voice is cold as the phone she s holding the connection s way too clear He s yellin where s my dinner She s too far gone to care She says listen here There s a time to stand and the time is now or never Time to fly time to let go forever Time to grow and a time to discover Life is precious every second you ve wasted of mine It s my ti - me She puts a few more miles between them he pours a distance of his own Starts talkin to the bottle that s all that s left now that she s gone He rages on till the national anthem comes on his TV Then he looks straight at the bottle says you did this to me And then he screams CHORUS It s my time it s my time it s my time and time is what you make it It s my time it s my time it s my time and time is what you re takin CHORUS |
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