We were drinking from the bottles
We hadn't broken on the sidewalk just yet
In your toyota corolla, we were belting out
You're calling me a safe bet
And you were leaving for war the next day
We swore over and over that things would stay the same
But then when you returned
You weren't, they weren't, we weren't
Then, eating at an all night diner
Talking the existence of God
When an old man walked in and told us
That he had been abducted by aliens
Later on the drive home
I mumbled "show me a sign"
A transformer exploded on the power line
And you and I were both baptized
In that blue light
That was the summer
That Mom passed away
We all felt a hole growing in the middle of our chest
Knowing that things would never be the same
When Dad pointed out to me
A solitary little blue bird on the clothesline
He said, "That right there Dane, that's our sign she made it to heaven all right"
Alright