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• Artiste: Kevin Devine
• Titre: Brooklyn Boy
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Brooklyn boy, born and raised, chopping lines hey hey, it's my birthday it's a toy I torched, a tarpit flame, a lockjaw night hey hey, it's my birthday dead end friends that make your stomach shake while your hissing head barrels down that blakened lane alone at last to figure how you got this way alone at last to figure how you got this way charcoal clouds spot and spray, they kill the sun hey hey, hear its back break so I can never tell night from day or right from wrong, hey hey, you're my headache your silver tongue it masks your hungry hate while your haggard heart whispers through its cracking cage you still can change, you have to know, you still can change I know, I know, for now I wanna be this way this was a choice, this was never a mistake