Father was drunk on the porch Quietly cleaning his guns while we sat And watched the sun set from the roof Drinking stolen beer The day I turned twelve And Momma was losing her mind So we built a home in the woods And I carved our names in the sign With a knife we found beneath the house The day you turned twelve And I am always reminded of lies That we told, but never meant And at night when I still hear you grin Like an echo sounding from my sins Come on, let me in I remember the cast on your arm
From when we were convinced we could fly And how we covered it up in fake names To make it seem like you were famous When you came back to school And sure, we never had much But we did just as we pleased We had no concern for anything Beyond the day we were living in We had no need to dream And I am always reminded of lies That we told, but never meant And at night I could still hear you grin Like an echo sounding from my sins Come on, let me in