How long’s it been? Good Lord she can’t remember
Seems like she’s lived here all her life
And she knew everything was gonna be different
After her old man «Charlie» died
And when the kids butted in she was thinking:
I didn’t live this long to be treated like a child
Then they moved her in with her son and his fiancé
Where life was good… most the time
She used to paint pictures of horses
Before she went blind and after Charlie passed
Though she never rode a horse in her life, for whatever reason
She never seemed to paint anything else
There were hundreds of them, everywhere horses
And I’ll bet she tripped over them all the time
Maybe it was just her little way to trick herself into thinking
That life is good… most the time
I bought this house off of that old lady
After her kids decided she couldn’t live on her own
And you know it amazes me just how long she stayed out here
It gets awful lonesome and there’s no way to keep it warm
And I keep myself busy by writing all my little songs
But sometimes good Lord late at night
The walls start closing in and it’s so hard to think
That life is good… most the time
The other day I found her old easel
It was out in the shed and it made me kinda smile
Because I remembered moving in and all of them old paintings
I thought she must have been out of her mind
But you know I learnt something from that old lady
That even if the Lord should strike you deaf, dumb and blind
So long as you’re riding horses in your dreams
Then life is good… most the time.