Wilbur Cross

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Godawful

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That's what rappers say right?
Right
Took me way too long to make this

Lungs full of liquid a little shard of persistence
Gasping for air with a disregard for existence
He's going for distance, he's going for speed
Lonely with a wish list he know's he won't see
Well so be it, this pursuit wasn't inspired,
The only dedication is greeting pavement with tires
So fire at will soldier
See a frontline without a mission statement always arrives right on time
I'm saying

I used to spend my nights getting lost
Music and black coffee on the Wilbur Cross
Just point out any exit and I'm getting off
Anything has got to be better than...ok

It's a different kind of appeal, you ain't been about it? then deal
I used to write my best lines while sitting behind the wheel
I was faux-"gripping that grain" while I was letting my brain go
Flickin' that cigarette's only disrespect when the lane slow
Found small fortune inside of that Ford Taurus
Back before the whole world extort it for it's coordinates
Lost ain't the case no matter how much it  appeared true
Can't lose sight if you're never minding the rearview
Can you? Exit 60 sittin' in my dust trail
Ash tray full of all the times I've seen love fail
Bumper sticker in the window with a "Yuck Fale"
Text reading "Where u at?" - treat it like it's junk mail
That back seat went from trash heap to packed knees
To first times and blurred lines of names we would blaspheme
That co-pilot saw it's handful of facelifts
Busted transmission gave new meaning to makeshift
Like "What the f*ck is maintenance?!" Put some style on it
Turn that broke suspension into bootleg hydraulics
I put the best times of my life in that milage
Never realizing it was my last line of guidance, I'm saying

I used to spend my nights getting lost
Music and black coffee on the Wilbur Cross
Just point out any exit and I'm getting off
Anything has got to be better than where we are, I'm saying
I used to spend my nights getting lost
Music and black coffee on the Wilbur Cross
Just point out any exit and I'm getting off
Anything has got to be better than where we are, I'm saying

It's a different kind of appeal, you ain't been about it? then deal
I used to write my best hooks while sitting behind the wheel
That hand-me-down let me ignore where the miles at
Wasn't like the time in that was something I could dial back
T-minus the trap, the clutch grabbed so heavily
Kickers in the back add some rattle to the melody
Codename "The Killer Cam" an accurate amenity
As half brother's tendencies shattering through my destiny
Jack in the recipe - blacken the memories
How many nights of how I made it back to my bed to sleep
That joyride became a silent drive of shame
Just seemed to deepen that hole inside him to blame
See most provided a lane - was so excited to change
Until that next weekend pop and it's low life-ing the frame
You'd think that first reset would have taught him something
Or the new whip and second chance would have brought reluctance
But a loss is a loss until it's all abundant
Broke heart - Failed tour - Right people - Wrong discussions
Blurred the picture of who was really the strong among us
Disregard for upkeep finally snapped and brought it's justice
Escape ripped from me for a whole entire twelve
Lookin' back - wish I had taken time in the cell
Because what I lost was more than a standard option
When you can't afford the cabs to see your dad in hospice
God, it's been a long damaged process
Of undeclared promises taking my canvas hostage
Because when that day came I repaired the cockpit
That same ol' path just didn't appear as honest
So I traded 15 for a 95 host
And I rode that bitch out for the whole entire coast
And then I ghost

I used to spend my nights getting lost
Music and black coffee on the Wilbur Cross
Just point out any exit and I'm getting off
Anything has got to be better than where we are

It's a different kind of appeal, you ain't been about it? then deal
Struggled to write this song while sitting behind the wheel
In this Tampa traffic got me melting out the face
In these Jeep snow tires looking hella out of place
Such a cliche - the great New England escape
A runaway under the cape of "change of pace"
What a waste. That Causeway a mouthful of paradise
And all I wanna taste is that cold autumn air at night
They say that grass is always greener under palm trees
And there's a lot fewer holes in this concrete
But just because the rides smoother it does not mean
That end of the road is any closer to your arms reach
Like maybe I just turned down the wrong streets
Or left too much baggage in my car seats
Couldn't accept I lost them before they lost me
And all that's left is those false Wilbur Cross dreams

I used to spend my nights getting lost
Music and black coffee on the Wilbur Cross
Just point out any exit and I'm getting off
Anything has got to be better than where we are, I'm saying
I used to spend my nights getting lost
Music and black coffee on the Wilbur Cross
Just point out any exit and I'm gettin' off
Anything has got to be better than where we are, I'm saying
I used to spend my nights gettin' lost
Music and black coffee on the Wilbur Cross
Just point out any exit and I'm gettin' off
Anything has got to be better than where we are, I'm saying

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