Paroles: Brad Paisley. Hits Alive. Letter To Me.
If I could write a letter to me
And send it back in time to myself at 17
First, I'd prove it's me by saying look under your bed
There's a Skoal can and a "Playboy" no one else would know you hid
And then I'd say I know it's tough
When you break up after seven months
And yeah, I know you really liked her and it just don't seem fair
But all I can say is pain like that is fast and it's rare
And oh, you got so much going for you, going right
But I know at 17 it's hard to see past Friday night
She wasn't right for you and still you feel like there's a knife
Sticking out of your back and you're wondering if you'll survive
But you'll make it through this and you'll see
You're still around to write this letter to me
At the stop sign at Tomlinson and 8th
Always stop completely, don't just tap your brakes
And when you get a date with Bridget make sure the tank is full
On second thought, forget it, that one turns out kind a cool
Each and every time you have a fight
Just assume you're wrong and Dad is right
And you should really thank Ms. Brinkley, she spends so much extra time
It's like she sees the diamond underneath and she's polishing you 'till you shine
And oh, you got so much going for you, going right
But I know at 17 it's hard to see past Friday night
Tonight's the bonfire rally but you're staying home instead
Because if you fail algebra, Mom and Dad'll kill you dead
But trust me you'll squeak by and get a C
And you're still around to write this letter to me
You got so much up ahead, you'll make new friends
You should see your kids and wife
And I'd end by saying have no fear
These are nowhere near the best years of your life
I guess I'll see you in the mirror when you're a grown man
P.S., go hug Aunt Rita every chance you can
And oh, you got so much going for you, going right
But I know at 17 it's hard to see past Friday night
I wish you'd study Spanish, I wish you'd take a typing class
I wish you wouldn't worry, let it be
I'd say have a little faith and you'll see
If I could write a letter to me, to me
And send it back in time to myself at 17
First, I'd prove it's me by saying look under your bed
There's a Skoal can and a "Playboy" no one else would know you hid
And then I'd say I know it's tough
When you break up after seven months
And yeah, I know you really liked her and it just don't seem fair
But all I can say is pain like that is fast and it's rare
And oh, you got so much going for you, going right
But I know at 17 it's hard to see past Friday night
She wasn't right for you and still you feel like there's a knife
Sticking out of your back and you're wondering if you'll survive
But you'll make it through this and you'll see
You're still around to write this letter to me
At the stop sign at Tomlinson and 8th
Always stop completely, don't just tap your brakes
And when you get a date with Bridget make sure the tank is full
On second thought, forget it, that one turns out kind a cool
Each and every time you have a fight
Just assume you're wrong and Dad is right
And you should really thank Ms. Brinkley, she spends so much extra time
It's like she sees the diamond underneath and she's polishing you 'till you shine
And oh, you got so much going for you, going right
But I know at 17 it's hard to see past Friday night
Tonight's the bonfire rally but you're staying home instead
Because if you fail algebra, Mom and Dad'll kill you dead
But trust me you'll squeak by and get a C
And you're still around to write this letter to me
You got so much up ahead, you'll make new friends
You should see your kids and wife
And I'd end by saying have no fear
These are nowhere near the best years of your life
I guess I'll see you in the mirror when you're a grown man
P.S., go hug Aunt Rita every chance you can
And oh, you got so much going for you, going right
But I know at 17 it's hard to see past Friday night
I wish you'd study Spanish, I wish you'd take a typing class
I wish you wouldn't worry, let it be
I'd say have a little faith and you'll see
If I could write a letter to me, to me
Paisley, Brad
5th Gear
Paisley, Brad
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