Looking less than your best
Oversized sweater, cigarette in hand.
A nothing town in which to settle down
And work the best years of your life away.
But there has to be so much more than this
Because these lines don't nearly tell the truth.
And this time i'm beginning to see the clues.
There's a space just below your right eye that
I know gives it all away.
We drove this car not missing a spot in town,
Your feet on the dashboard all the way down.
But there has to be so much more than this
Because these lines don't nearly tell the truth.
And this time i'm beginning to see the clues.
A rain so hard it weathers buildings around us
And drenches the old t-shirt you've borrowed from my bedroom floor.
We'll arrive back home, soaked to the bone and worse for wear
But drying out for tomorrow.
Tell me, tell me why you're talking so loud.
The walls in my old room
Talk much more than we ever will again,
And we never did.