i'm back in your home town
the same place i spent my summer
and i can't help but hope to see you somewhere.
they all have your accent
but they could never sound like you
when you lied.
i want your car to pull up right next to me
blasting the music you'd sing along to
with your window down and your arm hanging out,
a marlboro light 100 in your left hand;
and some kind of fruity gum in your cheek
to mask the taste of nicotine.
i remember these roads
but i just realized i forgot
the songs you'd sing about Jesus.
gee, i wonder why;
you're unrighteous and you lie.
who the hell are you
to sing of a man like Jesus?
Adding your comment: