Dancers

There's a priest up on the tonight who prays the world will end

Men out on the highway writing words they never send

We were packing early we were heading down the road

Looking for a place we used to go

Pack up all the money that we made in all those dead end jobs

Can't take it with you when you're gone

Everybody's leaving, nobody's left believing

Don't have the strength to carry on

Here by the sea under the blue

Loving you's just what I'll do