I got a postcard with an old address

A picture of Houston in a beat up mess

Just to remind me that it all went wrong

Just to beat me up, just to turn me on Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper

Burnin' in my hands Cigarettes in the glove box with the classified ads

Ashes and silver worn into your hands

I got to see you on a bar napkin

Gas station quarters, I got to see you again Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper

Burnin' in my hands Somewhere there's a letter that I never sent

It used to read pretty, now it's empty as

That night in the headlights with the blankets pressed

Was it something to you baby, was it always just Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper

Burnin' in my hands Stray paper, stray paper, stray paper

Burnin' in my hands

Burnin' in my hands

Burnin' in my hands