I USUALLY TAKE ONE LAST PASS THROUGH TOWN
STOP THE CAR AND TOUCH THE GROUND
WATCH THOSE STREETLIGHTS SWAYIN' IN THE BREEZE
DECORATED STORE FRONTS
RUSTY OLD GAS PUMPS
TRY TO FILL MY MIND UP
WITH SOMETHIN' BEFORE I GO
PICTURE POSTCARD MEMORIES
YOU KNOW THEY ALWAYS MAKE FOR GOOD COMPANY
AND I DON'T KNOW NO TOWN
LIKE THIS OLD TOWN
EVEN WHEN THE MILES ARE MANY
I FEEL LIKE I'M STILL AROUND
IT'S DEEP INSIDE ME
LIKE RINGS THROUGH AN OAK TREE
YEAH THERE'S SOMETHING 'BOUT A SUNDAY WHEN I'M GONE
THAT KEEPS ME TURNIN' HOME
AND STANDIN' HERE NEATH THESE BILLBOARD LIGHTS
CARRIES ME BACK TO THOSE AUTUMN NIGHTS
HOMETOWN BLEACHERS PACKED REAL TIGHT
AS WE MARCH DOWN THE FIELD
THEN FEET WOULD SWING FROM A DROPPED TAILGATE
OUT ON AIRPORT ROAD REAL LATE
NO ONE COULD WALK A LINE TOO STRAIGHT
BUT USUALLY (ALWAYS) MADE IT HOME ALRIGHT
GLORY DAYS I CAN'T RELIVE
STORIES I'LL NEVER FORGET
AND I DON'T KNOW NO FRIENDS
LIKE THE OLD FRIENDS
NEVER SEEM TO LAUGH NOW
LIKE I DID WITH THEM
BUT THEY'RE DEEP INSIDE ME
A PIECE OF MY HISTORY
YEAH I HEAR THEIR
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