As the night goes on,
I go from feeling out of place,
to feeling like a ghost.
But you miss me when I'm gone.
But when I'm around,
it's like I'm hidden in the paint of these walls.
The loneliness will keep me warm tonight.
It'll keep me warm,
seeing as you won't.
I know I've got loose ends,
leaving me to spend
too many nights driving down dead ends.
I guess I'm looking for something more than this.
More than this.
If the open road is my home,
I'm never leaving.
All the small towns make me throw away my biggest fears.
And the big cities,
make the fucked up stuff feel smaller.
I know I've got loose ends,
leaving me to spend
too many nights driving down dead ends.
I guess I'm looking for something more than this.
When I'm not here,
does anyone miss my second-hand smoke?
Do you wonder where I am,
or who I'm with?
Call me a mid-twenties sob-story.
I can't help the way I feel.
(I can't help the way I feel.)
I know I've got loose ends,
leaving me to spend
too many nights driving down dead ends.
I guess I'm looking for something more than this.
More than this.

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