Out on the road playing with bands we donât know
Hope this oneâs a better show, I hope the kids will show at all
They probably wonât, it makes me miss back home
It makes me feel alone, it makes me change my tone and ask:
Oh Nostalgia, what have you done for me lately?
You wonât buy me a round tonight, or back me up in a fight.
Oh Nostalgia, with every mile I drive, every step I strive
Every leap that turns into a dive
I can feel something deep down die
And whatâs dying is whatâs keeping me alive
I get into these day-drunk stews
That turn into binge drink feuds between my contrasting moods
Between my daydream prose and my heartbroke woes
When I should have dignity and donât, act with integrity but wonât
So I sit on the curb and call you from my cell
And try and act like the night went well
And you ask if Iâve had a few
And I guarantee you thatâs more than true
And I sit on the curb and call you from my cell
And try and act like the night wasnât hell
And you ask if Iâve had a few
And all I hope is that I can sober up tomorrow