Heading back to where I spent my cold Friday nights
Wondering 'bout the state I'm in but not a cop in sight
Down this street around the bend I left my thoughts behind
On an old busted bench dusted by the sands of time
Nobody ever comes around here no more
See the old times dissappear, another vacant lot
They'll be tearing down this place in time,
don't tell me you forgot
The wall of trees along the way, the silver shining high
This field has seen the birth of dreams and gave'em wings to fly
