Halfway Home

[Verse 1]
Kitchen clock stuck at midnight
Mom’s voice sharp like broken glass
Every little thing’s a landmine
He learns to tiptoe
Learns to pass
Backpack packed by the front door
Shoes already laced to run
Counting days on the wallboard
Till that rusted pickup comes (yeah)
[Chorus]
With his dad he is free
Windows down
Yelling over the trees
Singing wrong words to old CDs
He forgets who he’s supposed to be
With his dad he is free
Seatbelt drum and a sideways grin
No one there to cage him in
Half a week
Half a home
But with his dad he is free
[Verse 2]
Mom says
“You’re just like him”
Like it’s some kind of loaded curse
He hides drawings in the trash bin
Dreams he’s riding in the front
Not hurt
Dad pulls up
Horn three times
He’s on the porch before it fades
Mom’s still talking through the blinds
He’s already miles away
[Chorus]
With his dad he is free
Windows down
Yelling over the trees
Singing wrong words to old CDs
He forgets who he’s supposed to be
With his dad he is free
Seatbelt drum and a sideways grin
No one there to cage him in
Half a week
Half a home
But with his dad he is free
[Bridge]
Two worlds
One small suitcase
Same face in a different frame
At her house he learns the rules
At his house he learns his name (oh)
Maybe someday they’ll see him
Not a fight they never won
Till then he’ll chase that weekend sun
[Chorus]
With his dad he is free
Windows down
Yelling over the trees
Singing wrong words to old CDs
He forgets who he’s supposed to be
With his dad he is free
Seatbelt drum and a sideways grin
No one there to cage him in
Half a week
Half a home
But with his dad he is free
(With his dad he is free)

rock, Crunchy alt-rock band, mid-tempo groove, male vocals. Tight, palm-muted guitars in the verses, then wide-open power chords and stacked gang vocals in the chorus. Bass locks with a punchy, driving kick; overheads lift in the hook. Brief guitar lead weaving around the vocal in the bridge, then a final anthemic chorus with shouts and ad-libs.