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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