Broken Bottles - Bill Miller

About three miles up that run down road

There’s an old town dump with some fools gold

Just waiting for a bandit’s hand to steal

What one soul lost I’d always find

It’s wild what some folk leave behind

But a poor boys dreams can always make it real

Cause I threw stones at broken bottles

I washed my hands in God’s rainwater

I found treasure others wouldn’t claim

I threw stones at broken bottles

Took what this life had to offer

And I let it shine when others make it rain

Let it shine when others make it rain

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

When others make it rain

While driving through the promised land

Out there in the drifting sand

I saw a boy who looked at lot like me

As I rolled my window down

I yelled across that one-horse town

I said, don’t give up boy, you’ve got the right to dream!

(REPEAT CHORUS)