You’ll never look over the picket fence because
You just might like a bit too much what you might see.
You’ll never stray too far from the yard because
Back out there, things ain’t what they used to be.

The toys you used to play with are all boxed up because
There was a time and a place when that was well and good,
But here you sit and you bead sweat all the time because
That place passed by and the time never learned to stay put.

CHORUS:
You were never one to be fenced-in
But then you found a deal that you just could not resist
Loneliness is the hardest hand there is to shake
Especially when you’re looking at pictures
with broken frames.

You never were one to sing a blue and lonesome tune
But I guess down the trail somehow, someway
Things eventually caught up with you and along
Came new rules by which you had to play.

You’d never think of digging up posts you’ve put down because
You’ve come to learn there’s no security found in holes in the ground
And you’ll never look over the picket fence because
You just might venture too far back past where you’re allowed.

Starin’ at a picture with hopes
Starin’ at a picture in hopes
You might forget somebody’s name.