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