We took the lock out of the damn door

We held our ground and we drove around

You hated sleeping on the floor

I love the feel of "out of town"

What could i write about?

I still think of you

I want to sell three hundred copies

Let's get it off paper and in our homes

Let's get it off our minds while we still have them

I've got this certain image

Of what our lives in love would be like

Please don't fuck it up

I could kiss your lips

I could wake you up

In the middle of the night

And make you sing songs we grew up with

Songs we grew old with