All the troubadours Are staring down the sun. And their pain don't hurt anyone And their pain don't hurt anyone else. So they called em off Called her on the phone Said "your baby is comin home" Said "your baby is comin home" Ooh-ooh-ooh We're all chasing down the sun Ooh-ooh-ooh We're all chasing down the sun So they called em off And called her on the phone And then they'll hold you like you're the only one And you bleed just like anyone, else Ooh-ooh-ooh We're all chasing down the sun Ooh-ooh-ooh We're all chasing down the sun