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We have roads, we like to drive alone |
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Ignoring the shortcuts that our parents taught us |
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Hummed, I hummed, slightly out of key |
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Through cornfields that let the pavement sing right back |
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Searching for a nod from above |
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But staring at the crowd is just enough |
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The places my mind runs around |
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Without you there to tie it down |
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It started in Ann Arbor, Michigan |
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And led to the grey hairs that your fingers comb through |
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Even strangers are asking you |
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What the hell is wrong with him? Whoa, searching for a nod from above |
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But staring at the ground is just enough |
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The places my mind runs around |
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Without you there to tie it down |
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It started in Ann Arbor Michigan |
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And led to the grey hairs that your fingers comb through |
|
Searching for a nod from above |
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But staring at the ground is just enough |
|
The places my mind runs around |
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Without you there to tie it down |