High Street
Was our happy place,
The sign is bolted down so it's not torn away
And hung up on a freshman's wall
By poster of Bob Marley with a soccer ball.
No I don't have the wherewithal to run
Midnight is the province of the young
It flashes
When the leaves are dead,
You dream of Mississippi and a single bed.
Passion without elegance,
Holes inside your jeans from when you hopped the fence, oh no
No we don't have the wherewithal to roam
It's pretty but it still don't feel like home.
Midnight is the province, midnight is the province of the young.
"Not the fault of anyone, not the fault of anyone" is a fantasy
Not the fault of anyone
Is the bed that we have made.
How you are with anyone is how you are with everyone you see
No they don't have the wherewithal to stay.
It's like pulling teeth to keep these two awake.
Midnight is the province of the young,
May love not fade away.