384 miles north of Boise, Idaho
thinking this is just as good a place as any to call it quits
the land is barren and brown, dead and desolate
I could wander right into these hills and slip right into the Earth
I’d be swallowed by scrub grass and dirt
But you say:
“you are not the only one who feels lonely
You are not the only one who feels lost
You are not the only one who feels weary
You are not the only one who feels lost”
Lines of travel sweetly embossed on your face now
This weight, this pressure is pushing me over the edge
I have been officially tipped
This time I want to just tumble like wind through these wheat fields
like bourbon into a glass
I want to spill like a tragedy from Shakespearean script
But you say…
This journey costs us the fun of forgetting
you and our crew are not used to just quitting
but here we are in a wave of exhaustion
how will we fill up the hope that is slipping from our grip
Hope in danger…
We stand on stages spewing our optimism
but lately I wake up stale and falling
I need some bottled kindness, some grip of light
something to keep that same optimism lingering
to keep the cynical from fingering me as a fraud
in this cheery line-up under lights each night, each night, each night
You are not the only one who feels lonely
Who else feels lonely?
Hope in danger…384 miles north of Boise, Idaho
thinking this is just as good a place as any to call it quits
the land is barren and brown, dead and desolate
I could wander right into these hills and slip right into the Earth
I’d be swallowed by scrub grass and dirt
But you say:
“you are not the only one who feels lonely
You are not the only one who feels lost
You are not the only one who feels weary
You are not the only one who feels lost”
Lines of travel sweetly embossed on your face now
This weight, this pressure is pushing me over the edge
I have been officially tipped
This time I want to just tumble like wind through these wheat fields
like bourbon into a glass
I want to spill like a tragedy from Shakespearean script
But you say…
This journey costs us the fun of forgetting
you and our crew are not used to just quitting
but here we are in a wave of exhaustion
how will we fill up the hope that is slipping from our grip
Hope in danger…
We stand on stages spewing our optimism
but lately I wake up stale and falling
I need some bottled kindness, some grip of light
something to keep that same optimism lingering
to keep the cynical from fingering me as a fraud
in this cheery line-up under lights each night, each night, each night
You are not the only one who feels lonely
Who else feels lonely?
Hope in danger…

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DISCOGRAPHY