Is this the life you chose yourself, or just how it ended up? Is that the art you pictured when you closed your eyes and dreamed of children in the grass running through the sprinklers? Being somebody's wife, or were you living in another life? When will I make it home, when I damn well feel like driving down these empty streets that burned through our birthright? I passed a couple kids holding hands in the street tonight They reminded me of us in another life Am I the man of your desire? Or just a guy from your hometown? Are these the arms that you saw when you pictured yourself wrapped around? Maybe I can vouch for the hopeless dreamer when you look at me Am I the man you hoped I'd be? When will I make it home, when that jukebox in the corner stops playing country songs of stories that sound like mine? I spent my best years laying rubber on the factory line I wonder what I would have been in another life I wonder what I would have been in another life