In-Roads

Cinderblock wall at the back of the yard

Reaching up tall, reaching up wide

I was so young when I climbed so high

Used to just walk down the streetside

Singing these songs to myself

Tryna make something for someone else

Big green hedge on the edge of the road

I was in the garden, sunning my toes

You work hard as a young adult

What you end up with isn't always your fault

What you end up with isn't always your doing

You're stuck feeling like you got something worth provin'

And you end up making in-roads anywhere you go

So the hardest thing to know is where to call home

Ripping my skateboard down the street

Roll my ankle till it bleed

Fifteen years since I was thirteen

Flipping through reflections of the things that I've seen

Thought I squared my shit away

Turns out it's all here to stay

And I end up making in-roads anywhere I go

And the hardest thing to know is where to call home

All I wanna do now's run away

Take your hand and pack our bags

Load the truck or the caravan

Run any direction, all in spite of some plan

Let's grab the moment by the wrist

So long to Los Angeles

And we'll end up making in-roads anywhere we go

Till the hardest thing we know is where to call home

When you end up making friends in the strangest places

The hardest thing to know is familiar faces