Piece Of My Life Colter Vane, Owen James, Damon Price

Yeah

Hadn't been up there in years

I climbed up to the attic
On a hot july afternoon
Dust floating through the sunlight
Like it always used to do

I was looking for an old wrench
That somebody said was mine
When i saw a cardboard box
With faded letters on the side

I pulled it through the rafters
Wiped the dust off with my hand
And for a second i just stood there
Like i somehow understood

There was me in hand-me-down overalls
Standing by a bicycle
One hand on the handlebars
The other holding yours

I remembered how you ran beside me
Halfway down oak street
Till i found my balance on my own
And heard you yell, "don't quit"

There was dirt across my blue jeans
A crooked smile i can't explain
Funny how a single photograph
Can bring it all back again

Every picture turned another page
Of someone i once knew
A kid who thought the world was small
And every answer came from you

I went looking for a cardboard box
In the corner of that room
Found old photographs and pieces
Of a life i thought i knew

For a little while that afternoon
The years just fell away
I found a piece of my life
That somehow never went away

Never went away

One picture showed a fishing pole
Almost twice as tall as me
You were laughing from behind the camera
Down by miller creek

Another from a county fair
With cotton candy on my face
The kind of day you never think
You'll spend a lifetime trying to chase

Then near the bottom of the box
Was one i'd never seen
You standing by that old ford truck
Looking right at me

On the back you wrote three simple words
In fading black ink lines

"You're doing fine."

I don't know why it hit so hard
After all these years gone by
But sitting there beneath that attic light
I finally let myself cry

I went looking for a cardboard box
In the corner of that room
Found old photographs and pieces
Of a life i thought i knew

For a little while that afternoon
The years just fell away
I found a piece of my life
That somehow never went away

Piece of my life

I carried that old box downstairs
Like something made of gold

Some things aren't memories

They're home