Bouncing Souls. The Good, The Bad, And The Argyle. The Guest. Zeneszám

Lost somewhere and trying to find a place to belong to the empty alleys and parking lots is where I'll be when everyone goes home I like what I see it's nothing special to me and nothing's coming down on me I think of a place a time or a face staring out at the stars in the sky there's so many of them and we're drivin' by