In the middle of the night So when I call you in the middle of the night And I'm choking on the words 'cause I miss you Baby, don't tell me I'm out of time How you slipped through my hands I got so much of my loving to give you I keep coming back to that

Our love comes back in the middle of the night You know how we've grown And how they catch our every turn Everyone's arrived here I see the pictures of everyone And they truly got it But it's your image burned into my mind And again I find That it's

Hey, hey what can I say I grew up in the heartland USA I sing it loud and proud and I make a lotta noise I'm an all-American middle class white boy We wasn't rich but we wasn't poor Lived on a cul-de-sac 'til my parents divorced I drove a hand-me-down

Hear me now Words I vow No fucking regrets Fuck these chains No god damn slave I will be different I'll stand here defiantly My middle finger raised Fuck your prejudice

One hand in the air, if he don't really care Two hands in the air, if he don't really care It's like that sometimes, I mean ridiculous It's like that sometimes, the shit ridiculous Middle Finger in the air, if you don't really care It's like that

I'm burned to ashes, split down the middle If anyone asks it hurt just a little I died inside the day I let you go I'm inside out, shot through the center Feel the scar of where you entered Took my life and turned it upside down But I will never let you

Boy, you gotta carry that weight Carry that weight a long time Boy, you gonna carry that weight I never give you my pillow I only send you my invitation And in the middle of the celebrations I break down You're gonna carry that weight along time

Tell me what's it gonna hurt To have a little drink after work? We made it to the middle of the week And I'm thinking that I'm probably gonna need To get to know you casually Just having fun, two for one Watch a good time get a little better Ain't no

Said you'd follow me anywhere But your eyes Tell me you won't be there I got to learn how to love without you I got to carry my cross without you Stuck in the middle and I'm just about to Figure it out without you And I'm done sitting home without you

Money in your palm don't make you real Pistol in your hand don't make you real Niggas been countin' me out I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty But that's how