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?