 Written by Ronnie Dunn and Craig Wiseman
Old man Wrigley lived in that white house,
Down the street where I grew up.
Mamma used to send me over with things:
We struck a friendship up.
Spent a few long summers,
Out on his old porch swing.
Said he was in the war, went in the navy.
Lost his wife, lost his baby.
Broke when I asked him one time,
"How you keep from goin' crazy?"
He said: "I'll see my wife an' son in just a little while."
I asked him what he meant: he looked at me an' smiled.
Said: "I raise my hands, bow my head.
"I'm findin' more an' more truth,
"In the words written in red.
"They tell me that there's more to life,
"Than just what I can see.
"Oh, I believe, mmm."
A few years later, I was off at college,
Talkin' to Mom on the 'phone one night.
Gettin' all caught up on the gossip:
Ins an' outs of the small town life.
She said: "Oh, by the way, son,
"Mmm. old man Wrigley's died."
Later on that night, I laid there thinkin' back.
Thought about a couple of long-lost summers.
I didn't know whether to laugh to cry.
If there was ever anybody,
Deserved a ticket to the other side.
It'd be that sweet old man, who looked me in the eye.
Said: "I raise my hands, bow my head.
"I'm findin' more an' more truth,
"In the words written in red.
"They tell me that there's more to life,
"Than just what I can see."
I can't quote The Book,
The chapter or the verse.
You can't tell me it all ends,
In a slow ride in a hearse.
You know ,I'm more an' more convinced,
The longer that I live:
Yeah, this can't be; no, this can't be,
No, this can't be all there is.
Lord, I raise my hands, bow my head.
Oh, I'm findin' more an' more truth,
In the words written in red.
They tell me that there's more to this,
Than just what I can see. (More than I can see.)
I believe, whoa, I:
I believe,
I believe. (I believe.)
Mmmmm. (I believe.)
I believe. (I believe.)
I believe. (I believe.)
(I believe.)
Oh, I believe. (I believe.)
Mmmmmm. (I believe.)
(I believe.)
Cr
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