Just 'bout every spring these rivers flood. 
They bring down a winter's worth of snow 
And a thousand tons of mud. 
You don't leave town. 
With the mud this deep, your wheels just spin around. 
 
And I only notice when I'm tired 
That whenever things get rough, I hide. 
I suppose that never growing up 
Is like a kind of suicide. 
 
There is nothing much to do in this town. 
Except get [bad word] and get in my [bad word] 
And just drive around. 
I've been driving in circles for so many [bad word] years. 
Just a little bit longer, then I'm out of here. 
 
And I only notice when I'm tired 
That whenever things get rough, I hide. 
I suppose that never growing up 
Is like a kind of suicide. 
 
And I've watched my bridges burn- 
My life go by with hardly a word. 
And I know inside, I can't stay here. 
I will get out, exactly when is not so clear. 
 
Still I don't leave town. 
With the mud this deep, my wheels just spin around. 
 
And I only notice when I'm tired 
That whenever things get rough, I hide. 
I suppose that never growing up 
Is like a kind of suicide.