Bryan Mitschell

Lyrics

One Thanksgiving afternoon
Sat on the porch rail, Gran in her chair
Looking out at the trees, gold and maroon
Could have been a moment if I was all there
But I had too many deadlines, didn’t I?
Had my mind on the bills, debts and overtime
The old girl stood to leave and she said
Boy, that ain’t what you take when you’re dead
You gotta get your head in the game
And get the game outta your head
When you make life a race you start losin’ it
Findin’ ways to keep the pace ain’t the point of it
You gotta learn, your drive to push forward is holding you back again
The more maps that we make the more lost we get
Seems backwards but that’s just the fact of it
The only way to make good use of time
Is try to lose track of it
With that said, she stepped back inside
The screen door behind her shut soft as a prayer
But the weight of her words left a landslide
Skipped my heart like a stone through the air
Just when I thought I was all grown up
Still had to be shown where the end zone was
Things looked new through some bittersweet tears
That fell with all the fall colors that year
It was Gran’s last trip round the sun
But she would smile to know, my best life had just begun
Cuz when you make life a race you start losin’ it
Findin’ ways to keep the pace ain’t the point of it
You gotta learn, your drive to push forward is holding you back again
The more maps that we make the more lost we get
Seems backwards but that’s just the fact of it
The only way to make good use of time
Is try to lose track of it
The only way to make good use of time
Is try to lose track of it