Lost in the South, my thermostat don't workI'm sweating naked on my bedIt's gonna fade to nasty yellow in the morningAnother blank face staring through meLike a chalk outline of dreams that bled out in the nightA post-mortem portrait of lonelinessSome heavy-handed statementLike "I've never felt at home"
And some asshole shot up some kidsA week before you left for PortlandI'm thinking about dying againFrom the worst outcomes of a worldThat I can't slow downNo matter how many timesI throw my hands into the airAnd plead with everyoneI know it's wrongBut I'm thinking about buying a gun
Would you meet me in the middle?Would you meet me north of Buffalo?We'll escape into the winterBuild a house where no one wants to goMeet me in the middleWould you meet me north of Buffalo?We'll escape into the winterBuild a house where no one wants to go
'Cause that's not an optionWhen everything looks like an epitaphStaring back at meI'll pace this parking lot tryingTo squeeze out from this miseryHow do I find youWhen you're lost out in the sea of greenIf the sun won't come back?
Rather be sheep in a snowstormThan a lion in the brushRather be sheep trapped in a snowstormThan a lion in the brushIn the sights of a bastard who can't get it up
Would you meet me in the middle?Would you meet me north of Buffalo?We'll escape into the winterBuild a house where no one wants to goMeet me in the middleWould you meet me north of Buffalo?We'll escape into the winterBuild a house where no one
No one wants to ever go
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