From
the white wooden cross on the side of the road
on that old oak tree
to the red tulip glass and the tall,
swaying grass,
it's easy to see.
But this Tulane knows my pain,
yeah,
here I go again,
back and forth,
up and down, trying
to make it all make sense.
Every day I wind up here,
winding through gears,
winding down that same old back road
with the windows down,
chasing down some old memory.
Like I make this drive just to cry,
but I guess that's what I need sometimes, when I
can't face that you're really gone.
So every day I take the long way home.
This side of my way,
two mile stretch is all that's left.
Back in the day,
and that road sign's still missing.
Can't believe they ain't fixed it,
but it's better that way.
I can still see us jumping out,
two fishing poles and a six pack,
crossing lines,
having the time of our lives,
not catching a thing.
So every day I wind up here,
winding through gears,
winding down that same old back road
with the windows down,
chasing down some old memory.
It's like I make this drive just to cry,
but I guess that's what I need sometimes, when
I can't face that you're really gone.
So every day I take the
long way home.
Man, I'm getting through,
but damn, I'm missing you.
So at times like this,
I wind up here,
winding through gears,
winding down that same old back
road with the windows down,
chasing down some old memory.
It's like I make this drive just to cry,
but I guess that's what I need sometimes, when
I can't face that you're really gone.
Yeah, when I can't face that you're really gone,
I take the long way home.
Yeah, I take the long way home.