Do you remember feeling small
And lost in all the trees high above our heads?
Rusted box springs and all the broken things
In our junkyard kingdom
We used to be kings
Do you remember feeling low
And getting high with the boys in the black light glow?
Flying down country roads
Always late for supper
But you need another upper to go
I let you go
Far enough away for everyone to say
How proud you had made them and you turned out right
Staring down the scope, your finger on the trigger
The ringing and the shimmer
Of the bullets raining nearer
And you remember feeling small
And lost in all the trees high above your head
The glistening of metal and rusted out barrels
The old rope and tire of a junkyard swing
We used to be kings
