I've been living out of a suitcase on the motel floor
and running up tabs at the corner store.
I'm barely walking on the boardwalk anymore.
When summer gets along,
your hair gets too long.
I'm picking up the habit of drinking long before four,
when July is gone, I'll be twenty-four
and then not anymore.
New Jersey shore, New Jersey shore,
then not anymore.
1 | Say Goodbye Good |
2 | My Life Is At Home |
3 | Half Year Sun |
4 | Sea Of Cortez |
5 | Easy |
6 | Size Of Your Life |
7 | Suffer Never |
8 | Become One Anything One Time |
9 | Wake Up April |
10 | Letters To The Far Reaches |