There's a freedom in the breeze i've never felt before
And Chestnut Street never seemed so long before
A car rolls past and skips out on the stop sign
As my mind is drifting to distant state lines

Where a night spent in the park doesn't seem so unrespectable
Wearing week old clothes is perfectly acceptable
I'll always love my home, but these places I've never known
Then monotony sets in bring me back there again

Where days like this I don't want to get up
I don't want to see the bottom of my coffee cup
I don't want to start my car, I don't want to cook a God damn thing
Days like this I don't even want to sing

Lyrics submitted by dyinginanothersarms

Lawrence, KS song meanings
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