Text: Good Life (The). Other. Haunted Homecoming.

Well, here I am, yeah, I'm back again
In a town that I used to called my residence
Now it seems like I live in a silver van
You might have seen it once, yeah, it's parked out front
But homecoming used to be a sweet affair
I could swim into the arms of a lover there
Today there doesn't seem to be a niche for me
Just a couch at Todd's house, Jim Beam, and TV

But the house is empty
The shadows are growing tall
Against the bookshelves and the paintings
As dusk begins to fall
The city's abandoned me
It's forgotten who I am
The landscape changes shapes
Streets twist and bend until I've lost my direction

I woke up late to the sound of drums
So I headed downstairs to see what's going on
Roger was playing to a metronome
He said, ?It's just not right, man, it's got no soul?
I told him what my sister said in Chicago
?Boy, you've made a choice you've got to uphold
I know it might sound unbearable
When you chose to write, you chose to be alone?

So the house is empty
And that's how it has to be
So I better not complain
I guess it's best for me
But the city keeps haunting me
Like the house on Lafayette
It was built for World War vets
We laughed, we said, ?How appropriate?
How appropriate
How appropriate

Who do you think of
When you think of the city?
Mostly I think of you

You're the peanuts at their city
You're the 2AB at Louie's
You're the Monday nights at Sullivan's
You're the Underground on Highland
You're the dogtrack, you're the Dubliner
You're the 49er shuffleboard
You're the big beer at the Underwood
You're the brothers, you're the drugstore

I miss this city, I miss this city
I miss this city, I miss this city