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Michial Farmer

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This is where it's blown to bits
This is where your treasure chest is opened up
And emptied out and everything you'd never want to see

I swear that we will make it, love
I swear the skies are bluer somewhere
And the sun will never sink behind the Appalachians for forever, love

And oh, you will learn to live
Learn how to survive

If all you need's a holiday
God knows they'll take that away
And walk away and never look behind at what they've left behind

It's Labor Day, and you're working your ass off
And what will you have to show for it in four years?
Some worthless degree
And maybe this is wanderlust, or maybe I am onto something

You could end up painting houses
You could end up working as a secretary
Until recession shuts you down

Then you and I will move out west
Past Nebraska
Past New Mexico
To California's open arms

And we'll sit on the hill there by the lake
The rotting Bible Belt a world away

But there's always something for you to forget
Someone to let go
And in the end you're always looking for a way out
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