I haven’t had enough
Can’t ask me to say when
Can’t ask me to resist
Won’t come my way again
It’s not that I am helpless
Nor that I am compelled
But that I have no words for
A way I’ve never felt
a long guitar and harmonica talking instrumental break
When you feel like you’re past hope
Past any chance for redemption
Perhaps some satisfaction
That life would get my vote
Then love comes into view
Like an unexpected postcard
Saying everything is beautiful
And soon you will be home.
fiddle on the last four lines, harmonica drops out
yes this is a destiel filk, tune exceeding dangerously sappy C&W, and it’s going along with the fic I’m working on. I am so cheesed with myself; I don’t want to leave the house, and there’s been a letter to pOp sitting there on the kitchen table for the last day. Also I’m supposed to make like lady bountiful to Paul, holed up in his motel. Tea, and beans, and whatnot.
