We talked about sports cars
And the dreams you had
And how you got far
But you turned your back for a love
And then it broke your trust
Driving through the shipyard
Over the flatbeds
And watched the Coast Guard
Reflect in the rust
Where you grew up
You'd still count the rows
Of truck stops and mini homes
The amusement park
We got caught in after dark
But baby it's not your fault
Everything can't be your downfall
You tried so hard
To be anywhere you are
But you just fall apart
Yeah, yeah, yeah
When you were eighteen years old
You moved out on your own
With a six pack and box of notes
Where ya fill your head with dope
And the green kinda hurts your eyes
Or maybe it's just the fluorescent lights
Pressed against the cold floor tiles
Ya think about the way he smiles
It feels like a bullet hole
In the bed where you woke alone
And in the cold
He was always warm to hold
They say it's all your fault
A piece of ass on the asphalt
So take another mouthful
Of trash talk and alcohol
And you'll be anything you're not
If it's what they want
Then it was getting late
Pulling off at the Super8
Ya felt your body cave
Right into the mattress springs
Yeah
We talked about sports cars
We talked about sports cars
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
We were talking 'bout sports cars
And the dreams you had
And how you got far
But you turned your back for love
