Text: The Good Life. Early Out The Gate.

What you're looking for is never what you find
Nothing ever seems to turn out right
Still you run around, still searching
On these long indifferent streets
For a lover or some cover to protect you
From the heat that you feel inside
Inflamed since you learned to cry
Ever since you learned to walk, you ran away
You kept running until you couldn't feel your legs
Now you slum around this drunked town
Pawn shops and titty bars
Telling tales of just how far you got
But they all know who you are
Yeah, you're not so great
You were just early out of the gate

There's a portrait of your mom when she was young
Her face was shining brightly as the sun
The son who got away from her
But came back home again to find a woman wrecked
With all this love she couldn't give but you know she did
You just couldn't feel it then
I found this birthday card from this lady I used to know
It said, "Boy, you're really starting to get old"
She was the mother of my mother
And I knew just what she meant
She'd been through it before, she knew
With all of this resentment, there comes regret
I just hadn't gotten there yet
Nothing ever seems to turn out right
No, nothing ever seems to turn out right
So I'll leave it at this
My deepest regrets