This is a hauntingly beautiful song about introspection, specifically about looking back at a relationship that started bad and ended so poorly, that the narrator wants to go back to the very beginning and tell himself to not even travel down that road. I believe that the relationship started poorly because of the lines:
"Take me back to the night we met:When the night was full of terrors: And your eyes were filled with tears: When you had not touched me yet"
So, the first night was not a great start, but the narrator pursued the relationship and eventually both overcame the rough start to fall in love with each other:
"I had all and then most of you"
Like many relationships that turn sour, it was not a quick decline, but a gradual one where the narrator and their partner fall out of love and gradually grow apart
"Some and now none of you"
Losing someone who was once everything in your world, who you could confide in, tell your secrets to, share all the most intimate parts of your life, to being strangers with that person is probably one of the most painful experiences a person can go through. So Painful, the narrator wants to go back in time and tell himself to not even pursue the relationship.
This was the perfect song for "13 Reasons Why"
My first rifle was a .243
That papa gave daddy and daddy gave to me
And they taught me how to shoot with a steady hand
I guess that's something you don't understand
Now I grew up on a prison farm
Sneaking pulls of shine from a mason jar
Used to go fishing out pickle creek dam
But I guess that's something you don't understand
Grandma's in the kitchen
Papa's done passed on
We'd sit out on the front porch
Just a-pickin' on a song
And there's blood on the table
'Cause we work for what we have
And I was raised in this land
I guess that's something you don't understand
And I still fly that southern flag
Whistling Dixie, loud enough to brag
And I know all the words to Simple Man
I guess that's something you don't understand
Pledge my allegiance the original way
Say Merry Christmas not Happy Holidays
I can't change my ways, I know who I am
I guess that's something you don't understand
Grandma's in the kitchen
Papa's done passed on
We'd sit out on the front porch
Just pickin' on a song
And there's blood on the table
'Cause we work for what we have
I was raised in this land
I guess that's something you don't understand
They'll grind us up in a big machine
I'll feed us all on the same beliefs
Holy dollar and a credit card
But we got a way of doing things
And no bankers gonna steal from me
They wanna tear it all apart
Grandma's in the kitchen
Papa's done passed on
We'd sit out on the front porch
Just pickin' on a songs
And there's a bible on the table
'Cause he bleed for what we have
And that's the ballad of a southern man
I guess that's something you don't understand
My first rifle was a .243
That papa gave daddy and daddy gave to me
That papa gave daddy and daddy gave to me
And they taught me how to shoot with a steady hand
I guess that's something you don't understand
Now I grew up on a prison farm
Sneaking pulls of shine from a mason jar
Used to go fishing out pickle creek dam
But I guess that's something you don't understand
Grandma's in the kitchen
Papa's done passed on
We'd sit out on the front porch
Just a-pickin' on a song
And there's blood on the table
'Cause we work for what we have
And I was raised in this land
I guess that's something you don't understand
And I still fly that southern flag
Whistling Dixie, loud enough to brag
And I know all the words to Simple Man
I guess that's something you don't understand
Pledge my allegiance the original way
Say Merry Christmas not Happy Holidays
I can't change my ways, I know who I am
I guess that's something you don't understand
Grandma's in the kitchen
Papa's done passed on
We'd sit out on the front porch
Just pickin' on a song
And there's blood on the table
'Cause we work for what we have
I was raised in this land
I guess that's something you don't understand
They'll grind us up in a big machine
I'll feed us all on the same beliefs
Holy dollar and a credit card
But we got a way of doing things
And no bankers gonna steal from me
They wanna tear it all apart
Grandma's in the kitchen
Papa's done passed on
We'd sit out on the front porch
Just pickin' on a songs
And there's a bible on the table
'Cause he bleed for what we have
And that's the ballad of a southern man
I guess that's something you don't understand
My first rifle was a .243
That papa gave daddy and daddy gave to me
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