Waiting on a Star
Daniel Weber ©2015 Highway142Music (ASCAP)

The room smelled like lilies, on Easter Sunday
But it was Tuesday, it was Tuesday all day
At Falvo and Sons Funeral Parlor
It was Tuesday, but it's always that way

All the ladies wore black; the men wore suits
And ‘Old Spice' to hide the booze
And though everyone tried, no one could fathom
The depths of what more, they could lose

Chorus:

‘Cause she was their own angel, with homemade wings
Who flew too close to the sun
Now they're lined up on Main, for that long black wagon
Waiting for their star to come

A small town, a small town, ain't it always that way
She started in church, singin' His praise
One day a man, from L.A. came callin'
To take her so far away

Bridge:

So far she could hardly recognize
The face in the mirror, behind the lies
Aw, but the folks back home, saw through her disguise
A scared little girl, behind her eyes

The motorcade starts up, when the doors slam close
It starts raining, she'd like that I suppose
Inside the Limo it's quiet, but outside they're singing
Her songs that everyone knows

Chorus:

‘Cause she was their own angel, with homemade wings
Who flew too close to the sun
Now they're lined up on Main, for that long black wagon
Waiting for their star to come

And the air smelled like lilies, on Easter Sunday
But it was Tuesday, it was Tuesday all day
And it rained all the way, to the cemetery
But I think she'd have liked it that way

Chorus:

‘Cause she was God's own angel, with homemade wings
Who flew too close to the sun
Now they're lined up on Main, for that long black wagon
Just waiting for their star to come
Yeah they're singing her songs, underneath their umbrellas
Still waiting for their star to come