Is this how it was intended?
The sunrise over smokestacks in the Midwest.
the beauty of this abandoned factory.
Christmas lights blinking on and off all
out of time in what used to be,
Your pink house dreams of a middle class America.

I’m trying to believe in you, but all these satellites
and shattered dreams are blocking out my view.
Please don’t forget who you really are,
'cause nothing really matters when we’re gone.

Fell in love with his Keno waitress
They honeymooned in Memphis,
they were married by the drive-up window.
Trailer parks, neon signs, and an empty box of Lucky Strikes
all used up on the dashboard of America.

I’m trying to believe in you but
this world sold its faith for parking lots and drunk sincerity.
Please don’t forget who you really are,
'cause nothing really matters when we’re...

You’ll be saddened to know, the train tracks
you once walked as a young boy
are now nothing but a graveyard.

Please don’t forget how small we really are,
nothing really matters when we’re gone.
Nothing really matters

I’m trying to believe in you.