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Artist: The Almost
Walking around, looking down
For something better, there's nothing better
Same old weird and familiar sound
It's just you leaving town
My god, August came around
Summer comes and leaves you with a fever
That you caught when you were young
Summer goes, makes you feel
Like life is great and hanging on for more
Empty streets, empty me
Just call me vagabond, wondering in the sun
This is getting sort of old
Is it empty streets, or empty me?
Holding on for me, hoping, praying
This will all start over, come back to me
We will walk the streets of this old town
Make me a promise
This will all come back around
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