Brown Bricks

I'll find a place of my own somewhere not so local
Somewhere I can call my own somewhere o so natural
I could make my own way I could even make my bed
I'm needin a change, climb out of this pit and respirate

Don't get me wrong I love this place
But it's those little things that are drivin me insane
Don't get me wrong I love you all the same
It's those brown bricks and coffee stains

It's like a government program without the need to lie
No job seeker diary and no god damn waitin lines
I've been and gone once or twice just like every young man does
I've seen the trees and I have smelt the roses