Anywhere But Home - Handguns

Somewhere between St. Paul and Sioux City

Jake fell asleep at the wheel

I woke up to the rumble strips

And then it all became so real:

That there’s no one at home waiting for me

And there’s nothing that I miss at all

It may be because of the life that I choose

But when you’ve got nothing

You’ve got nothing to lose

And I wonder what it will be like when I get back home

Will my friends still drink in my garage

Or will she ever pick up her phone?

I don’t want to read the same book again

Just hit the gas get on the road and never let this end

I’d rather play three chords to three kids

Than spend one more day there

Complaining about my dead end job not getting me anywhere

And it’s more than just a tour, more than just these songs

It’s the feeling of know that this is

This is everything we’ve got (don't let it go)

It’s ten p.m.

in Washington and the show just let out

I’m in some dirty bathroom stall just trying to cool down

Nate’s outside loading the van

Smoking a cigarette that he found in a trash can

Marco just got kicked for twenty bucks in gas

Jake’s at the front door begging for change

We’ve got make this money last

I’d rather play three chords to three kids

Than spend one more day there

Complaining about my dead end job not getting me anywhere

And it’s more than just a tour

More than just these songs

It’s the feeling of know that this is

This is everything we’ve got

And there’s no place that I’d rather be

Than stuck in this van with you three

Don’t let it go