Finding My Way Home
I rode my bike across the county line
And made my way up through to Wisconsin
The grit and the gravel in my holy shoes
Tells me when I've had enough
Cause I'd like to get lost more often
But I'm not so good at finding my way home
"What are you doing?" I hear from behind me
"Turn around I'm taking you in"
I said "not much harm can come from walking around
But I understand you're just doing your job"
Trespassing we are
Criminals we aren't
When all of business stands at a halt
Abandoned industrial parks remain
As places to explore and wind down in
Cause if you don't use it we will use it
If you don't use it we will use it
Autor(es): Sloth Hands