Written by: Billy Dean, Tim Nichols

She puts up with my coffee cup

Ringing her dining room table

She don't mind those Friday nights

When she has to drive cause I'm unstable

She goes to church while I oversleep

I'm not sure what she sees in me

CHORUS:

Thank god for small favors

The Sunday paper and the taste of homemade wine

Second chances and the healing hands of time

And thank god love is blind

Somehow she knows I love her so

Though I don't always show her

She only sees the good in me

But with me she has to look closer

Lord, I guess I owe you one

She thinks I hung the moon and the sun

REPEAT CHORUS