I’ll stare at the Sun till I can finally see the stars The city lights don’t do them justice And I just miss your backyard All the nights we used to talk and drive around Mapping out our sacred hometown Where the kids armed themselves with Tommy guns and sticks Clean needles, rolled up bills And enough to do the trick We fought back all by ourselves Tearing through a post-high school shaped hell I’ll warm up the car While you exit the house cafe Stop to light a cigarette Before we made our grand escape You claim these winters are getting so much colder We laugh, relaying fears of getting older My old car stereo kicks on Playing songs we hand selected A mixtape for o. I'm mischief From our own personal collections Watch subdivisions slowly turn to fields Feel a little better about being stuck here