Eras

During the era of the 12 passenger van
Summer nights on the road thru some desolate wasteland
Three of us are smoking so we have the windows down
Drinking cans of Sparks
Passing them around

I would try to see your eyes in the dark
Were you looking at me

During the era of the crowded hotel room
We lay on thinning carpet floors watching old cartoons
Always walking to the ice machine 'cause drinking vodka warm
Is for aging alcoholics, withered and deformed
Decayed and whiskey-worn

What I imagined
Wasn't that
It's still appealing to me
But I can't go back
I just miss the question of where I am
When the sun shines thru some stranger's house
Who put us up when we all blacked out

During the era of the European run
Defiling wartime monuments and fighting each other for fun
Drinking off our hangovers 'neath the Budapestian sun
I wondered if we'd ever straighten out once all of this was done
Or would we still be on the run

What I imagined
Wasn't that
It's still appealing to me
But now I can't go back
I just miss not knowing
Where we're going



Credits
Writer(s): Tristan Dolce
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link