Who knew how well a town could mock you….
Lights and spells, ties, stages, promises, white well marketed lies
And you with your lines and your head full of songs and sometimes yourself…
I miss what I dreamed this dream would be, but in ways I’m proud to say I know what it does
I hate what this town can do to a man, and to a woman’s will
Don’t doubt while you’re cleaning the coffee shops, in the town you should’ve owned.
I count the costs of hearing this call, and I know I have to own it

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