John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
John Mayer
I am driving up 85 in the kind of morning
That lasts all afternoon, I'm just stuck inside the gloom
Four more exits to my apartment
But I am tempted to keep the car in drive and leave it all behind
'Cause I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdict less life
Am I living it right, am I living it right?
Am I living it right
Why, why Georgia, why?
I rent a room and I fill the spaces with wood in places
To make it feel like home but all I feel's alone
It might be a quarter life crisis, just a stirrin' in my soul
Either way I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdict less life
Am I living it right, am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Why, why Georgia, why?
So what, so I've got a smile on
But it's hiding the quiet superstitions in my head
Don't believe me, don't believe me when I say I've got it down
Everybody's just a stranger but that's the danger in going my own way
I guess it's a price I have to pay, still everything happens for a reason
Is no reason not to ask myself if I'm living it right
Am I living it right, am I living it right?
Why tell me, why
Why, why Georgia, why?