this town makes my mind slow down
lines in my face like highways now
chasing breezes, kicking boulders
and all of the while just getting older
i leave pieces of paper
pieces of myself along the way
out the window, out the window
and i tell myself that
i'll come back for them before i go
and then i won't sing this song tomorrow
reason calls i'm never listening
there's always something more distracting
and you take everything so seriously
then you leave and burn up on re-entry
for happy endings
all these little victories
gathered up and hung on the wall like trophys
i tell myself that
i've been down this road before
so i won't sing this song anymore
i've been down this road before
so i won't sing this song anymore
i've been down on myself enough before
so i won't sing this song anymore
Этот текст прочитали 286 раз.