Father was drunk on the porch

Quietly cleaning his guns

While we sat and watched the sunset from the roof

Drinking stolen beer the day I turned twelve.

Mama was losing her mind

So we built a home in the woods

And I carved our names in the side with a knife

We found beneath the house the day you turned twelve.

And I am always reminded of lies

That we told but never meant

And at night, well I still hear you grin

Like an echo sounding from my sins

Come on, let me in.

I remember the cast on your arm

From when we were convinced we could fly

And we covered it up in fake names to make it seem

Like you were famous when you came back to school.

Sure we never had much

But we did just as we pleased

We had no concern for anything beyond the day we were living in

We had no need to dream.

And I am always reminded of lies

That we told but never meant

And at night I could still hear your grin

Like an echo sounding from my sins.

Come on, let me in.