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Anywhere But Home

Handguns

Somewhere between St. Paul and Sioux City
Jake fell asleep at the wheel
I woke up to the rumble strips
and then it all became so real:
that there's no one at home waiting for me
and there's nothing that I miss at all
it may be because of the life that I choose
but when you've got nothing
you've got nothing to lose

And I wonder what it will be like when I get back home
Will my friends still drink in my garage
or will she ever pick up her phone?
I don't want to read the same book again
just hit the gas get on the road and never let this end

I'd rather play three chords to three kids
than spend one more day there
complaining about my dead end job not getting me anywhere
and it's more than just a tour, more than just these songs
it's the feeling of know that this is
this is everything we've got (don't let it go)

It's ten p.m. in Washington and the show just let out
I'm in some dirty bathroom stall just trying to cool down
Nate's outside loading the van
smoking a cigarette that he found in a trash can
Marco just got kicked for twenty bucks in gas
Jake's at the front door begging for change
We've got make this money last

I'd rather play three chords to three kids
than spend one more day there
complaining about my dead end job not getting me anywhere
and it's more than just a tour
more than just these songs
it's the feeling of know that this is
this is everything we've got

And there's no place that I'd rather be
than stuck in this van with you three
Don't let it go

Composição: Hand Guns





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