Texty: The Classic Crime. The Beginning.

I left my heart in a plastic box,
On the bedside table.
It will be locked till I get home.

I?ve grown feeble and tired of this world.
Tired of constantly missing my girl.
And I long to smell the sea.
And I long to smell the sea.

The sea, the sea, the sea, the sea, the sea (yeah).

I miss the pacific ocean and northwestern air,
And running each other?s fingers through the strands of her hair.
I?ve been all over this country lately,
But I?ve been nowhere, it seems, nowhere.

I?ve found the cure for my landlocked blues,
It?s coming home to you,
It?s coming home to you.

You, oh. You, oh. You, oh. You, oh.

If a simple seed gets just what it needs,
Then a redwood tree can grow,
Up to a hundred feet for the world to see,
And endure the sleet and the snow.

But if my whole life,
Was wrapped in price,
I wonder what the tag would show.
?Cuz the time I?m close to the Holy Ghost,
I always seem to let her go.

I let her go?

I left my heart in a plastic box,
On the bedside table.
It will be locked till I get home.


(Thanks to Ryan for these lyrics)