Lyrics My Front Door - Trout Fishing In America

The trees are only cardboard, the leaves are full of paint
There's a riot in the cornfield by the silo
Crows are on the tightrope, the cars a wash of rain
While the fences fold like hands around the land
Past old folks on the front porch with babies on their knees
The dogs upon the dash begin to sing
And each moment brings me closer
And before the night is over, I will open my front door
There's silence from the squad car, sirens on the street
I hear music from the neon-lighted doorway
Sweet comfort in the cottage, there's a pillow for my head
With foggy dreams of macramé tattoos
But nothing can deter me. There's an anvil in my shoe
The coffee in my brain begins to sing
And each moment brings me closer
And before the night is over, I will open my front door
All roads lead to my house, even roads I've never known
And when I'm backing out my driveway
I'm just taking the scenic route home
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
Well, the grass is getting greener. I'm on the other side
Bridges crossed like Ts are all behind me
I'm bringing home the bacon, not baby bumblebees
I bow and take an exit on my street
The rain is gently falling. I see the front porch light
The keys in my ignition start to sing
And each moment brings me closer
And before the night is over, I will open my front door
Each moment brings me closer
And before the night is over, I will open my front door