Grids

We once said that Northern Jersey was a tar pit
Is that why we paid fifteen grand to leave it
We talked about our lives in ten years
And ways we could afford not staying sick

It's always this static illusion
That is always hard to maintain
And in the end it doesn't mean much
It's never for people that stayed

Don't feel ashamed
When I pack my bags
And drive off the grids
For a while
And I could change my name
Or just stick with my fake
Like I did to purchase booze
For the rest of the ride

Each day I've been swimming laps
And feeling flourished with every breath
But in the end it's always back and forth
No matter how far I'm looking ahead

So I'll pack both my guitars
My flannels, my favorite sketch
And everything that I consider art
And leave behind all the rest

So don't feel ashamed
When I pack my bags
And drive off the grids
For a while
And I could change my name
Although things will stay the same
If I don't fix the things
That stem from what is inside



Credits
Writer(s): John Mueller
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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