You took a train to the south-side of Boston
You showed me where your old man stayed
Took twenty-eight years of blood I was lost in
To feel loved on my own birthday
And I always felt like I was in-between
Something like home and somewhere far away
But tonight on the West side in a bar out in Brooklyn
I saw tears outline your face
How lucky are we? It′s been a hell of a week
But you're all grown now
There′s smoke seepin' out of your bloody teeth
But you're home somehow
And I′ll be upstairs with the guitar I was given
When I was barely fourteen
When did McGlinchey′s get so crowded?
And why are the crowds so damn green?
I lost my mind on the streets of the city
And maybe I lost all hope too
Took 28 years of blood pumping through me
To get to this evening with you
How lucky are we? It's been a hell of a week
But we′re all grown now
There's smoke seepin′ out of the bar down the street
But we're home somehow
How lucky are we? It′s been a hell of a week
And we're all grown now
There's smoke seepin′ out of the bar down the street
But we′re home somehow
You took a train to the south-side of Boston
You showed me where your whole heart stayed
Took 28 years of blood pumpin' through me
To feel loved on my own birthday
Writer(s): Zachary Lane Bryan
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