bury me in philly

can i move to california and keep my head held high, these bipolar east coast forecasts leave me fried, and i got lonesome there since the day she died, i never been too good at saying long goodbyes, so write me one good song and dry my sisters' eyes, and bury me in philly when i die, bury me, bury me, yeah, if i delete all my profiles can i make you come, a digital golden calf at first it seemed like fun, but it gets lonesome there and i could use some sun, all the clicks and likes feel like hit and runs, i'm turning off my phone, i'm turning in my gun, you can bury me in philly when i'm done, bury me, bury me, give my '65 to tim and dry my sisters' eyes, and bury me in philly when i die, let the ground beneath my feet, fail if it wants to now, you've got dancing shoes, i've got blues to lose and i want you to show me how, i'm ready for it now, i can show you that i love you if you'll let me in, i don't need a savior if i don't believe in sin, but it gets lonesome here out on a limb, i'm singing ragged songs and howling broken hymns, so come on golden state let me in, they can bury me in philly in the end, in the end, in the end, bury me, bury me, yeah, give my '65 to tim and dry my sisters' eyes, and bury me in philly when i die, give my '65 to tim and dry my sisters' eyes, and bury me in philly when i die