Played around and found some sounds today, went back to some old lyrics and played around to fit them to a sound; very rough, but still a working start!
Battered and bruised, she helped me up when I couldn’t help myself.
Broken and scarred, she helped me rise when I had nobody else.
Wasn’t the job description; it was something I could see:
She put in overtime, overtime on me.
All the times she didn’t need, she went an extra mile;
All the medicine I could feel when all she did was smile.
Raised my head each time it fell, drew me from my Hell;
Took the nothing that I was, and helped a story tell.
Wasn’t the job description; it was something I could see:
She put in overtime, overtime on me.
Say a prayer as I lie in bed, and she’s still by my side.
Can’t explain all that she does, but, God, she gives me life.
Wasn’t the job description; it was something I could see:
She put in overtime, overtime on me.
No idea why she’s still here: must be something that she sees.
She puts in overtime, overtime on me.