Southtowne Lanes - Iron Rod | Текст песни

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• Southtowne Lanes
• Iron Rod

White tape on cold pavement in the shape of your little boy.
He's all grown up now, packed his things, and he's not quite that saint he used to be.
Plans for his future, thrown aside.
He's as good as dead to you.
White tape on cold pavement in the shape of your little boy.

I remember that night.
Sitting on the stairs, knuckels painted white.
You were holding back your tears, and
I was choking on mine.
Going on and on, about how nothing quite felt right.
Engraved on the plaque above me read:

"Remember who you are."

But I can't remember who I was back then; did I ever really change?

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