Lyrics
|
If
|
I
|
wanted
|
to
|
know
|
who
|
you
|
were
|
hanging
|
with
|
While
|
I
|
was
|
gone,
|
I
|
would've
|
asked
|
you
|
It's
|
the
|
kind
|
of
|
cold,
|
fogs
|
up
|
windshield
|
glass
|
But
|
I
|
felt
|
it
|
when
|
I
|
passed
|
you
|
There's
|
an
|
ache
|
in
|
you,
|
put
|
there
|
by
|
the
|
ache
|
in
|
me
|
But
|
if
|
it's
|
all
|
the
|
same
|
to
|
you
|
It's
|
the
|
same
|
to
|
|
Lyrics
|
me
|
So
|
we
|
could
|
call
|
it
|
even
|
You
|
could
|
call
|
me
|
"babe"
|
for
|
the
|
weekend
|
'Tis
|
the
|
damn
|
season,
|
write
|
this
|
down
|
I'm
|
stayin'
|
at
|
my
|
parents'
|
house
|
And
|
the
|
road
|
not
|
taken
|
looks
|
real
|
good
|
now
|
And
|
it
|
always
|
leads
|
to
|
you
|
and
|
my
|
hometown
|
I
|
parked
|
my
|
car
|
right
|
between
|
the
|
Methodist
|
And
|
the
|
school
|
that
|
used
|
|
Lyrics
|
to
|
be
|
ours
|
The
|
holiday's
|
linger
|
like
|
bad
|
perfume
|
You
|
can
|
run,
|
but
|
only
|
so
|
far
|
I
|
escaped
|
it
|
too,
|
remember
|
how
|
you
|
watched
|
me
|
leave
|
But
|
if
|
it's
|
okay
|
with
|
you,
|
it's
|
okay
|
with
|
me
|
We
|
could
|
call
|
it
|
even
|
You
|
could
|
call
|
me
|
"babe"
|
for
|
the
|
weekend
|
'Tis
|
the
|
damn
|
season,
|
write
|
this
|
down
|
I'm
|
stayin'
|
at
|
|
Lyrics
|
my
|
parents'
|
house
|
And
|
the
|
road
|
not
|
taken
|
looks
|
real
|
good
|
now
|
Time
|
flies,
|
messy
|
as
|
the
|
mud
|
on
|
your
|
truck
|
tires
|
Now
|
I'm
|
missing
|
your
|
smile,
|
hear
|
me
|
out
|
We
|
could
|
just
|
ride
|
around
|
And
|
the
|
road
|
not
|
taken
|
looks
|
real
|
good
|
now
|
And
|
it
|
always
|
leads
|
to
|
you
|
and
|
my
|
hometown
|
Sleep
|
in
|
half
|
the
|
day
|
|
Lyrics
|
just
|
for
|
old
|
times'
|
sake
|
I
|
won't
|
ask
|
you
|
to
|
wait
|
if
|
you
|
don't
|
ask
|
me
|
to
|
stay
|
So
|
I'll
|
go
|
back
|
to
|
LA
|
and
|
the
|
so
|
called
|
friends
|
Who'll
|
write
|
books
|
about
|
me
|
if
|
I
|
ever
|
make
|
it
|
And
|
wonder
|
about
|
the
|
only
|
soul
|
Who
|
can
|
tell
|
which
|
smiles
|
I'm
|
fakin'
|
And
|
the
|
heart
|
I
|
know
|
I'm
|
|
Lyrics
|
breakin'
|
is
|
my
|
own
|
To
|
leave
|
the
|
warmest
|
bed
|
I've
|
ever
|
known
|
We
|
could
|
call
|
it
|
even
|
Even
|
though
|
I'm
|
leaving
|
And
|
I'll
|
be
|
yours
|
for
|
the
|
weekend
|
'Tis
|
the
|
damn
|
season
|
We
|
could
|
call
|
it
|
even
|
You
|
could
|
call
|
me
|
"babe"
|
for
|
the
|
weekend
|
'Tis
|
the
|
damn
|
season,
|
write
|
this
|
down
|
I'm
|
stayin'
|
at
|
my
|
parents'
|
house
|
|
Lyrics
|
And
|
the
|
road
|
not
|
taken
|
looks
|
real
|
good
|
now
|
Time
|
flies,
|
messy
|
as
|
the
|
mud
|
on
|
your
|
truck
|
tires
|
Now
|
I'm
|
missing
|
your
|
smile,
|
hear
|
me
|
out
|
We
|
could
|
just
|
ride
|
around
|
And
|
the
|
road
|
not
|
taken
|
looks
|
real
|
good
|
now
|
And
|
it
|
always
|
leads
|
to
|
you
|
and
|
my
|
hometown
|
It
|
always
|
leads
|
to
|
you
|
and
|
my
|
hometown
|
|