(Chris Thile)

Man, of all of the people, hanging on one person's breath.
We would all vote him, but frankly to be loved to death.
I hope he still wants it, but it might remind him of when,
He aimed for the bullseye and he hit it that time, silent sign.

That one time his hand slipped and I saw, the dart sailed away.
I don't know where it landed, but I'm guessing between green and grey.
Well, I thought nothing of it but it still haunts him like a ghost.
With all eyes upon him except two that matter the most.

He says: "Green is the colour that everyone sees all around me.
"Grey is the colour I see around her.
"She's just a blur.
"The more the crowd cheers, the less I can hear,
"For they don't really care what I'm playin'.
"It might be for her but for now it's between green and grey."

We paid and we cheered, now we're gone and to us, that feels right.
But for him, every one of those evenings turns into the night.
With another hotel room where he lays awake to pretend,
That he's doin' fine with his notebook and deskman for friends.

He says: "Green is the colour that everyone sees all around me.
"Grey is the colour I see around her.
"She's just a blur.
"Night after night while I hear what I write,
"Fills the room an' my head starts to sway.
"Might be for her but for now it's between green and grey."

"I want you to love me," he whispers her name, 'bout to speak.
And he wonders aloud why feelings so strong make the body so weak.
Then he awoke, now he's scared to death somebody heard,
If it was you and you know her, please don't say a wor