We sit in this restaurant, near the end of the longest ride Walls are covered with NASCAR drivers, the Beatles, and apple pie This is the last supper, the best ones were years ago The check rests on the table, Iâll leave the tip, letâs go
When all is said and done, as days go I wonder will you miss me when Iâm gone? Are we afterthoughts? Or were you better off all along? If all your work is burned, well then, I wonder will you suffer any loss? Are we afterthoughts?
Or were we never even friends. Iâm fuckin lonely, and I donât have a home If I drive North or South, it doesnât matter much at all I could wear a flagâs bold colors So we could all fight for a cause Or Iâll just lay here naked on the floor