Coming home feels strange now
Strangers that we met feel closer
Closer towards our house feels farther
Daughters now feel more like mothers
And I left my headphones on the grass again
"My young years escaped me"
Says a 23-year-old now
Tried as hard to pry my slow-down
Maybe that way I can say
That I left my trauma on the grass
This is our road
Roadtrip
Home for you and me
Sundays are for sunsets
The pavements are built for my pleasure
Just one day of the week won't measure
But I'll stop the time and use my magic
I'll paint the sky pink
My achievements faded
Alongside all the pain in my chest
If that's the price I'll write the pay-check
Maybe that way I can say that the childhood inside me isn't dead
This is our road
Roadtrip
Home for you and me
For you and me