Through no fault of your own, your traits they drag my temper accross the three lanes in the road.
At the next exit you'll find it meets my temple where my viens meet to throb.

And it's only a sign of weakness, a temporary stitch that seal my lips so tight that any sign of frustration is quickly shadowed by the headphones in my ears.
And i am so tired my eyes can hardly see, the fact that you will always mean so much to me.
And i know it's only to ruffle my feathers, but another wrong turn will leave me at my wit's end.

This is nothing we won't live through, and i know that we always pull through.
So i'll keep singing 'cause we need this, and i'll stay because we deserve this.
As the next town rolls closer, i'll keep the vacancy, but i'll keep on running while my legs still carry me.
But as the slowest songs sing we're coming home, we'll know; that we came here for this