The Boy Come Home Lyrics - Matthew Good Band

While I go over it in my head 

I walk through those doors and stand there staring 

There ain't one soul that's in there dead 

My hand stays out, I keep my head 

And walking out I see you sitting 

In that Ford of your old man's 

Scratching your arms like your skin is crawling 

But done up the best you can 

Face first pilot through your window 

Them paupers they catch hell 

It's strange to think we could have been so 

Brought up by ourselves 

Run through the streets like rivers raging 

To seas of barren sand 

And while every grain tears you apart stay 

Done up the best you can 

Unemployment lines stretched to the desert 

And camouflaged hotels 

Where traded up to new distinctions 

Puts justice in your shells 

Take one for the team and that pretty lady 

Used to cover up the smell 

When you get back boy you're just crazy 

If you dare kiss and tell 

This aching heart ain't something I done 

This aching heart's been handed down 

But I'm done with it now 

I'm done with it now 

I'm done with it now 

So I take this screaming in my head 

I walk through those doors and stand there staring 

And my hand slips into my coat 

And everything just freezes 

Running out I see you sitting 

In that Ford of your old man's 

The boy come home, yeah 

The boy come home, yeah