Sometimes I get nostalgic for the past
Sometimes I'm proud of the fact that I'm white trash
Sometimes I think that I can't stand alone
Sometimes I want to run away from home
Sometimes I feel like life kicks me in the face
I gotta get back up 'cause, baby, that's the break
Sometimes I think about the way I was raised
Sometimes I dwell on the dues I've been forced to pay
Sometimes I think about the bullsh** I took
I wish I used the chance to fight when I could've
But it's alright
I want to know that when my body lies, will my spirit roam?
Will Isee all the things I never could see?
Will my questions be answered when the river meets the sea?