I blacked out behind the wheel
Just south of Jacksonville
And I woke up on the wrong side of the coast
It's what I get, I suppose
For chasing your ghost, around here
I spend my days lost in pictures
Studyin' the fixtures
Of a life that's livin', past the hands of time
It feels just like famous fiction
The beginning and the ending to a line
And it ain't so bad
Growin' old here
Addictions just tradition
Until we up and disappear
The country side is mighty fine
The farm and picket fence
You and I were just gettin' by
And pickin' southern oranges
I got sober for a minute
But lost it to the business
Of rock and roll on Saturday night
It's what I get, to compromise
And try to feel alright, without you
I spend my days just a-bleedin'
Pickin' at the sequence
Another song, that burns a hole in time
It feels almost over-privileged
To know just how it ended
Before the rhyme
And it ain't so bad
Growin' old here
Addictions just tradition
Until we up and disappear
The country side is mighty fine
The farm and picket fence
You and I were just gettin' by
And pickin' southern oranges
And it ain't so bad
Growin' old here
Addictions just tradition
Until we up and disappear
The country side is mighty fine
The farm and picket fence
You and I were just gettin' by
And pickin' southern oranges
The country side is mighty fine
The farm and picket fence
You and I were just gettin' by
And pickin' southern oranges