Backpack to the brim
and a bus ticket in hand,
I pick the perfect song for when I'm going
over the Brooklyn Bridge
to the neighborhood you live
Will my heart be in my throat the whole way there?
I really hope you wear
the dress you spent your paycheck on
and I'll step outside to call my mom and say
"Happy Holidays, I won't be joining you this year in Kingston,
My mind is somewhere else"
And if I knew that in a year you'd hate my guts,
I'd still be here no matter what
Pour yourself something strong
Tell yourself nothing's wrong with this
Pour yourself something strong
Tell yourself nothing's wrong with this