We wrote our names last day of summer on the insides of each other's hands With empty cans and walls of graffiti, the kind just kids understand It's not the gla** or the wires at our feet that gets us dancing this way It's the backbeat of these hearts that don't feel the world that is slipping away This overpa** wasn't made for going down south For them coming in or us getting out It's a temple of concrete that sits With losers and orphans under it It's full of misfits and lovers that just need the cover that it gives Be counted on and counted in The well is dry, bags are full of gra** There's bottle caps in the rocks It's louder than you thought and the best kind of trouble Happens when the gate is locked This overpa** wasn't made for going out west For taking a shot or placing your bet It's a temple of concrete that sits With losers and orphans under it It's full of misfits and lovers that just need the cover that it gives Be counted on and counted in Counted in It's not the hustle or the high that doesn't last The dead leaves or the cheap romance It's not the pills or the punches they pack It's the magic that brings us back This overpa** wasn't made for going up north For Taking a seat and going back and forth It's a temple of concrete that sits With losers and orphans under it It's full of misfits and lovers that just need the cover that it gives Be counted on and counted in Misfits and lovers... Be counted on and counted in Misfits and lovers... Be counted on and counted in Misfits and lovers... Just need the cover that it gives Get counted on and counted in