We Could Live Like Kings

Engine sounds bleed into whistles
A holdover from cargo hold just hopping onto trains
Eight wheels times fifty cars times forever
A haunting smell of a burned out desert town for every mile
But in a town like this, you've got your thumb out for a lift.
You were always so goddamn predictable.

What if the most beautiful thing
Isn't pleasant at all,
but is cathartic?
Which is worse, I'll never know.
If only lives of crime had taught us
how to tread that line
Because I'm just amassing sins on ceremony now.

One last stop, in a monument to dirt.
I stumble in, bandaged and with whiskey stains on my shirt
and I look a mess and I'm pleading for a chance
but we were raised in ghost towns
so all you're looking for is smoke and dust.

What if the most beautiful thing
Isn't pleasant at all,
but is cathartic?
Which is worse, I'll never know.
If only lives of crime had taught us
how to tread that line
Because I'm just amassing sins on ceremony now.

You can wait and hour or a day
Or does it matter on a train if you're on your way?
I could be as patient as the rest of them.
I could could be outpatient like the rest of them.
You just wait and see.



Credits
Writer(s): Benjamin Abert, Christopher Dondoros, Daniel Sullivan, Kevin Vance
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link