| I’m glad I never lived next to the water
|
| So I could never get used to the beach
|
| And I’m glad I never grew up on a mountain
|
| To figure out how high the world could reach
|
| I love the miles between me and the city
|
| Where I quietly imagine every street
|
| And I’m glad I’m only picturing the moment
|
| I’m glad she never fell in love with me
|
| For some the world’s a treasure to discover
|
| And your scenery should never stay the same
|
| And they’re trading in their dreams for explanations
|
| All in an attempt to entertain
|
| But I love the miles between me and the city
|
| Where I quietly imagine every street
|
| And I’m glad I’m only picturing the moment
|
| I’m glad she never fell in love with me
|
| The trick of love is to never let it find you
|
| It’s easy to get over missing out
|
| I know the how’s and when’s, but now and then
|
| She’s all I think about
|
| I wonder how it feels to be famous
|
| But wonder is as far as I will go
|
| Because I’d probably lose myself in all the pictures
|
| And end up being someone I don’t know
|
| So it’s probably best I stay in Indiana
|
| Just dreaming of the world as it should be
|
| Where every day is a battle to convince myself
|
| I’m glad she never fell in love with me |