You took a train To the south-side of Boston You showed me where Your old man stayed
Took twenty-eight years of Blood I was lost in To feel loved on my own Birthday
And I always felt like I's in-between something Like home and somewhere far away But tonight on the West side in a bar out in Brooklyn I saw tears outline your face
How lucky are we? It's been a hell of a week But you're all grown now There's smoke seepin' out Of your bloody teeth But you're home somehow
And I'll be upstairs With the guitar I's given When I was barely fourteen When did McGlinchey's get so crowded? And why are the crowds so damn green?
I lost my mind on the streets of the city And maybe I lost all hope too Took twenty-eight years of blood pumping through me To get to this evening with you
How lucky are we? It's been a hell of a week But we're all grown now There's smoke seepin' out Of the bar down the street But we're home somehow
How lucky are we? It's been a hell of a week And we're all grown now There's smoke seepin' out Of the bar down the street But we're home somehow
You took a train to the south-side of Boston You showed me where your whole heart stayed Took twenty-eight years of blood pumpin' through me To feel loved on my own Birthday
Compositor: Zach BryanPublicado em 2024 (10/Jan)ECAD verificado fonograma #53442147 em 09/Ago/2024