Album: Rope
I have come
Down familiar roads
To console
But not to be consoled
I have lost
More fights than I have not
But I wont live
For my cemetery plot
On my own
On my own
Ow
Ow
I saw my mom pack her bags and leave
Sleet covered, oh, our worn down street
It's the place we made our goodbyes
That cold November night
I lie awake at night
Seeing visions of my past
This heavy heart of mine
Never fails to bring me back
My eyes fixed on the sight
Of you under the street light
Find my self on my own
On my own
Trailside Road
Trailside Road
Where I Go
Trailside Road
Trailside Road
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