Nowhere like a diner to get to truly know someone.   Like a library up 17 or a spin around the center of town.   The smell of saltwater. I left my pocket change at the Molly Pitcher.      A sound we can live with, no sound.   A smell we can live with, no smell.   A home we can live with, no home.      But the morning sun is not too far behind.   I'm lit up like the night sky- I told you I trust this place.      The night jug handles as I'm swept through northern lights.   Quick Chek coffee is cooling down.   We're sweeping along the shoreline,   On some journey I cannot repeat.   Matilda will meet us at Martell's   Barefoot in the sand,   Hanging on the boardwalk for dear life.      The smells, the sounds   Long way from home, I can't go on.   The garden state      I'll always bounce back down these roads      Nothin' like home      We danced and split. Exit 117 driving east.      I'll never turn around in the place where I was born.   I'm left without directions or a road to follow