To look at my eyes you know there's someone home. I think maybe he's out in the garage or even in the shower. When I rang the doorbell I could hear someone doing something.
To look at my hands you might think I'm a farmer or a cowboy, but I'm really just a carpenter who's been reaching his hands too often in his nail bags for things that aren't there.
To look at my life you would think I am lucky.
To look at the road I've been on you might wonder why I didn't fly, instead.
To look at my destination you might tell me to check my map.