Written by: Danielle Bouchard, Mitchy Collins, Christian Medice, Billy Mann
Produced by: Christian Medice
Maybe we, got it all wrong,
Wastin' time, pretendin' we're strong.
Pull over the car, to the side of the road.
Let's talk it out, under the cigarette glow.
Maybe we, were right all along.
Stop looking down.
One man's water is another man's wine.
And somebody's daughter winds up somebody's bride.
And even three words can hurt you sometimes.
Maybe the cracks in the floor of heaven,
Are the stars in the sky.
Lace me up, let me trip in those boots.
There's no such thing as a lover's heart
That ain't felt black and blue.
Whenever we fight, use the words as our guns
And leave as the leader of an army of one.
Maybe we, were right all along.
Stop looking down.
One man's water is another man's wine.
And somebody's daughter winds up somebody's bride.
And even three words can hurt you sometimes.
Maybe the cracks in the floor of heaven,
Are the stars in the sky.
Maybe the cracks in the floor of heaven,
Are the stars in the sky.
Maybe life is just a road trip,
Between hello and goodbye.
So let's stop the wonderin',
Let's see what's on the other side.
Stop looking down.
One man's water is another man's wine.
And somebody's daughter winds up somebody's bride.
And even three words can hurt you sometimes.
Maybe the cracks in the floor of heaven,
Are the stars in the sky.
Maybe the cracks in the floor of heaven,
Are the stars in the sky.
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