Lyrics

Appalachian mountains in the middle of the state
Her confessions are like echoes into the cold
This ink is like gasoline, it could start a fire
Be careful not to dig a grave in your own heart
In the foothills the leaves fall into the river
So quickly they drift away, never to return
You can sell them for gold or never see them again
You'll be lucky, if you catch them in this town

Had a run in with the law, just hours ago
I felt like a criminal again
Young deputy was just doing his duty
We needed a place to rest
With an eighty-five dollar fine, I got a phone number to call
Let's get out of the Garden State
So let's take the back roads when the time is right
I don't think there gonna catch us in this town

At lot nineteen, on the sandy shores
This women let us in at the gate
And she warned us that the flood waters are consuming the land
So be careful where you sleep
So lay back, won't you rest your weary head
We've been running on empty for days
We got two strikes against us in New Jersey
I don't think their gonna catch us in this town

Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania

Appalachian Mountains in the middle of the state
Her confessions are like echoes into the cold
This ink is like gasoline, it could start a fire
Be careful not to dig a grave in your own heart
In the foothills the leaves fall into the river
So quickly they drift away, never to return
You can sell them for gold or never see them again
You'll be lucky if you catch them in this town
You'll be lucky if you catch us in this town

Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania