Lyrics

Backwoods to Atlanta in an hour-thirty flat Enough to conjure every day you want back Regrets so shadow-like, always trailing behind No the artists couldn't take it, I was always cracking up No more lofty ideals for me I just couldn't deny that old world blood runnin' through my veins I just couldn't deny that old world blood runnin' through my veins Yeah if dangers so inspiring then I'm heading straight for enemy land While the lesser man turned and ran If you don't keep moving you're gonna get stuck in the quicksand Oh I'd rather die a thousand times than get stuck in the quicksand Yeah we were smooth sailing all of our days until the wind came and blew the kite out of my hand I watched it float onto a distant land and flutter away While I was re-evaluating my brand I told my friends not to talk to me or look at my face Solitude's the mistress and she's moving all her things into my place Solitude… City life ain't healthy, the suburbs will do you in Now the internet took your friends Sometimes all you got's a wistful walk down the block and back again Trouble is, trouble is, trouble is Trouble is you always gotta come back again