
Tent City
Dead Swans
On the road thirty days alone.
These tired nights drives take us further from home.
These nights, through the highs and lows.
Dark eyed and dreamy with no place to go.
Afraid of what's to come.
Tomorrow's lights flicker in you heads.
These days aren't long enough, we make the most, it's just not long enough.
Waking up on cold floors with numb hips and crooked spines.
We're breaking through the memories we should have left behind.
Crushing thoughts from passing towns repeating through our fragile minds.
We're breaking through the memories we should have left behind.
I don't want to feel this way anymore.
This is the only thing picking me up off the floor.
I don't want to feel like this anymore.
This is the only thing picking me up off the floor.
500 miles and all we're seeing are open spaces.
We're breaking through the memories we should have left behind.
Waking up on cold floors with numb hips and crooked spines.
Crushing thoughts from passing towns repeating through our fragile minds.
We're breaking through the memories. We're breaking through the memories.
500 miles from home.



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