The Part
Luke Combs
Packin' that bag you unpacked yesterday
Watchin' the world through the windowpane
From the second row of the ten-man van
That you've been calling home
It ain't quite the life you dreamed about
When momma calls and you miss out
'Cause you're on stage at a damned ol' one-off show
They tell you 'bout the old guitars
The songs that bought the house and cars
And how your hometown's proud of where you are
And your name up on the marquee sign
But not the dark that comes to find you
Every single time them lights go down
Yeah, that's the part, they don't tell you about
You try to dry her eyes, from a thousand miles apart
And hope that band-aid on her heart
Sticks just long enough for you to make it home
She feels like she comes in second place
To plaques on walls and long highways
She needs something more than words to hold on to
They tell you 'bout the old guitars
The songs that bought the house and cars
And how your hometown's proud of where you are
And they tell you 'bout the girls you'll get
But not the one you're gonna miss
While they scream your name again in some small town
Yeah, that's the part, they don't tell you about
When you're doing it all right
And, man, it still feels wrong
Breakin' her damn heart
Chasin' these damn songs
Thinkin', man, it ain't that hard
Strum some chords on that old guitar
Do some shots in a smokey bar
And everybody knows your name
Till they're changing out the marquee sign
Then that darkness comes to find you
And everyone's gone home and the lights go down
Yeah, that's the part, they don't tell you about
They don't tell you about