Lyrics
She left a note on a dollar bill again
I burned a hole in the state of Michigan
But paper money always makes change
April, March, and September
The tender months help me to remember
Weather and women can be so strange
And in God we trust
Salt turns to rust
Ashes from Eden
And bones into dust
I had a river of good intentions
And a head full of great inventions
But blew it all with a slip of my tongue
On the road to the mountain
I slipped as I stared at an empty fountain
Climbed out the ladder but broke the last rung
And in God we trust
Salt turns to rust
Ashes from Eden
And bones into dust
That which has been
Is that which will be
That which was done
Is that which is done
There is nothing new
Under the sun
So in God we trust
Salt turns to rust
Ashes from Eden
And bones into dust
She left a note on a dollar bill again
I burned a hole in the state of Michigan
She left a note on a dollar bill again
And I burned a hole in the state of Michigan