| 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
|
| Searching for a nod from above
|
| But staring at the ground is just enough
|
| The places my mind runs around
|
| Without you there to tie it down
|
| It started in Ann Arbor, Michigan
|
| And led to the grey hairs that your fingers comb through
|
| Even strangers are asking you
|
| What the hell is wrong with him?
|
| Whoa, searching for a nod from above
|
| But staring at the ground is just enough
|
| The places my mind runs around
|
| Without you there to tie it down
|
| It started in Ann Arbor Michigan
|
| And led to the grey hairs that your fingers comb through
|
| Searching for a nod from above
|
| But staring at the ground is just enough
|
| The places my mind runs around
|
| Without you there to tie it down |