by jeff bucci

Genre: Pop


there’s a radio that’s in my head
and it plays all of those songs I use to know
thats for shore
a broke down bus thats in my yard
black and white photos we took on tour
an some are torn
by ninty nine we had some time
between highschool and where we are today
it was all so safe
I sit inside and close my eyes
my hair is long my pants are ripped and stained
and thats ok
Though my radio still plays things
the speakers torn but the bass still kicks in
their’s nothing wrong with the black and white tv
The beat up drums in the back still look good
the amp up front is small but powerful
the smell of smoke still keeps me so intrigued
When gasoline was cheap and clean
we drove that bus so far down old dirt roads
we still got home
VHS is all we played from state to state
to keep our minds amused
we were so confused
Pieces of my history I would like to replay
one ore two more times
before I die
Ten years went by so damn fast im
turning yearning burning for those days
we were young and brave
the mirror’s cracked in a few more places
the tape deck works but sometimes erases
the tires neew some air but still look new
So gather up your bags and some edibles
meet me at the park for a ciggaret
pocket change wont buy us fule no more
thats for shore

Repeat verse one and two

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