| Another night in this black water rain cloud
|
| Kicking through the puddles on his way up to the Greyhound and
|
| In his pocket is a letter from his mother, folded up saying…
|
| (Where have you been?)
|
| Yeah, but he won’t write back
|
| Left his whole life on the nightstand
|
| Open up his wounds and let em bleed onto the white sand
|
| And you can label him another problem typecast
|
| And stay the hell away from him like everybody else has
|
| And that’s exactly why he flees to the road
|
| Another notch in the war club he keeps in his soul
|
| And if you ever saw him swing it you would easily know
|
| And have the worried urge to ask him
|
| (Where have you been?)
|
| Yeah, but he won’t answer
|
| Blinking as the headlights pass him
|
| Rip the chills off of his spine and throw them right at you
|
| But sometimes you don’t really get what ask for
|
| And life gets so cold and you can never go back home
|
| Where would you go if could never go home? |
| (go home)
|
| What would you say if they never even asked you? |
| (asked you)
|
| Where would you go if could never go home? |
| (go home)
|
| What would you say if they never even asked you? |
| (asked you)
|
| Where would you go if could never go home? |
| (go home)
|
| What would you say if they never even asked you? |
| (asked you)
|
| Where would you go if could never go home? |
| (go home)
|
| What would you say if they never even asked you?
|
| The sun rises on a dead open one way
|
| And dilates his pupils like a fire struck his young face
|
| Dead to the world, he’s planning his exit to stare death in the face
|
| (Where have you been?)
|
| Yeah, but he won’t fold
|
| He’s been waiting for the end of the road
|
| To have this cold world drop off and swallow him whole
|
| It’s a one way trip, he don’t plan to return
|
| And as the vessel of his escape out eases into the terminal
|
| Lost, with nothing but a smirk on his face
|
| As he steps off the bus and starts picking up pace and
|
| You could see it in the people as he ran past that everyone was wondering
|
| (Where have you been?)
|
| He’s almost home, and he can feel it in the cracks of his bones
|
| As he runs up the stairs that pass over the road and
|
| Without a hesitation stopping his actions
|
| He leaps from the guardrail and dives into traffic
|
| Daddy was a rolling stone
|
| Mama never gave two shits about a broken home
|
| I said Daddy was a rolling stone
|
| Mama never gave two shits about a broken home
|
| (Where have you been?)
|
| I said daddy was a rolling stone
|
| Mama never gave two shits about a broken home
|
| I said Daddy was a rolling stone
|
| Mama never gave two shits |