Counterfeit Guitars

[Verse 1]
Driving by your house
I’m overwhelmed by nostalgia
As I pull out of the street
I remember how you lost her

And how in your downstairs bedroom
We wrote our revolution
Armed with counterfeit guitars and disputable amounts of talent
Our ideals were all borrowed, we just didn’t know it yet
So perhaps for once they were authentic

[Chorus]

The hardest part is I can’t just call you up
And reminisce, because I fucked up
And my ego was too big to admit it
And I know it’s no excuse
But I was young and I was frightened
I had seen the road down which you were headed
And I couldn’t face it again

[Verse 2]

Cruising through the backstreets
I pass by that old school yard
Where we both grew into ourselves and realized
That ‘that life’ wasn’t for the likes of us (following, blindly following)

[Chorus]

The hardest part is I can’t just call you up
And reminisce, because I fucked up
And my ego was too big to admit it
And I know it’s no excuse
But I was young and I was frightened
I had seen the road down which you were headed
And I couldn’t face it again

[Bridge]
Tell me can you feel it? The aching in your bones?
The one that reverberates and lodges in your skull?
The near constant headache, that intensifies
Each time you think about all the good undone
Because we couldn’t nurse our pride?

[Chorus]

The hardest part is I can’t just call you up
And reminisce, because I fucked up
And my ego was too big to admit it
And I know it’s no excuse
But I was young and I was frightened
I had seen the road down which you were headed
And I couldn’t face it again

The hardest part is I can’t just call you up
And reminisce, because I fucked up
And my ego was too big to admit it
And I know it’s no excuse
But I was young and I was frightened
I had seen the road down which you were headed