She's my kind of rain, hey, hey-hey. Like love from a drunken sky-aye-yai-yai. Confetti falling down on mine. She's my kind of rain. - Tim McGraw

I ain't no angel, I still got a few more dances with the devil.
I'm cleaning up my act little by little.
I'm getting there. I can finally stand the man in the mirror I see.
I ain't as good as I'm gonna get, but I'm better than I used to be.

The urge to run, the restlessness.
The heart of stone I sometimes get.
The things I've done for foolish pride.
The me that's never satisfied.
That face that's in the mirror.
When I don't like what I see.
I guess that's just the cowboy in me.

Meanwhile back at mama's.
The porch light's on, come in if you wanna.
Supper's on the stove and beer's in the fridge.
Red sun sinkin' out low on the ridge.
Games on the tube and daddy smokes cigarettes.
Whiskey keeps his whistle wet.
Funny the things you thought you'd never miss.
In a world gone crazy as this.