[00:00.00] 作词 : Jon Nite/Greg Becker
[00:01.00] 作曲 : Jon Nite/Greg Becker
[00:13.23]We were sittin' round the supper table and the buzz of the frigidaire
[00:18.83]Was the only sound 'til momma laid down, a book she found upstairs
[00:25.48]It was covered in dust in the back of the closet,
[00:29.47]Goodwill box we almost tossed it out
[00:33.36]We could have lost all those memories
[00:38.43]
[00:39.09]There was a picture of mama in the pouring rain
[00:42.29]Ticket stubs to a Braves game
[00:45.60]Silver star and a baggage claim from Hanoi, Vietnam
[00:51.58]There was a picture of him callin' on grandpa
[00:55.27]Leather skin from a baseball
[00:58.43]We laughed and cried, told stories all night long
[01:03.26]From the book of John
[01:06.45]
[01:18.00]Now the pot of coffee's almost gone, as we turn another page
[01:23.88]We're climbing on him like a Jungle Jim, watching his hair turn gray
[01:30.90]All the Polaroids are just reminders,
[01:34.12]You can't hold life in a three ring binder
[01:37.61]We flipped on through 'em anyway
[01:41.16]
[01:43.63]There's a picture at his sister taken in July
[01:47.10]On the steps of the church pulling out his tie
[01:50.31]Hair's still wet from gettin' baptized, the brand new blue suit on
[01:56.34]An old set of keys to his Chevrolet
[02:00.10]A crumpled up receipt for a wedding ring
[02:03.28]We watched ourselves grow up there in his arms
[02:07.90]In the book of John
[02:11.94]
[02:22.95]That sun came up, we were wide awake
[02:26.21]Head to toe in black and gray
[02:29.30]Long black Lincoln waiting down the drive
[02:34.54]He was father, son, husband and friend
[02:39.06]I still flip through it every now and then
[02:42.12]When I need just a few words of advice
[02:47.60]It's almost like he's not really gone
[02:52.69]And I know one day I'll be passin' on
[03:01.73]The book of John
[03:06.20]

作词 : Jon Nite/Greg Becker
作曲 : Jon Nite/Greg Becker
We were sittin' round the supper table and the buzz of the frigidaire
Was the only sound 'til momma laid down, a book she found upstairs
It was covered in dust in the back of the closet,
Goodwill box we almost tossed it out
We could have lost all those memories
There was a picture of mama in the pouring rain
Ticket stubs to a Braves game
Silver star and a baggage claim from Hanoi, Vietnam
There was a picture of him callin' on grandpa
Leather skin from a baseball
We laughed and cried, told stories all night long
From the book of John
Now the pot of coffee's almost gone, as we turn another page
We're climbing on him like a Jungle Jim, watching his hair turn gray
All the Polaroids are just reminders,
You can't hold life in a three ring binder
We flipped on through 'em anyway
There's a picture at his sister taken in July
On the steps of the church pulling out his tie
Hair's still wet from gettin' baptized, the brand new blue suit on
An old set of keys to his Chevrolet
A crumpled up receipt for a wedding ring
We watched ourselves grow up there in his arms
In the book of John
That sun came up, we were wide awake
Head to toe in black and gray
Long black Lincoln waiting down the drive
He was father, son, husband and friend
I still flip through it every now and then
When I need just a few words of advice
It's almost like he's not really gone
And I know one day I'll be passin' on
The book of John