I wouldn’t trade my place

I got no reason to be

Weathered and withering

Like in the season of the old me

Bust the lock off the front door

Once you’re outside you won’t want to hide anymore

Light the light on the front porch

Once it’s on you’re never wanna turn it off anymore

And now it’s on

Now it’s on

Now that the lake’s in place

Where the dead sea used to be

It seems that I’m ceasing to be

In the season of the old me

I wouldn’t trade my place

I got no reason to be

Weathered and Withering

Like in a season of the old me

Bust the lock off the front door

Once you’re outside you won’t want to hide anymore

Light the light on the front porch

Once it’s on you’re never wanna turn it off anymore

And now it’s on