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

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
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 loose 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

Bury me
Give my ’65 to Tim and dry my sisters’ eyes
And bury me in Philly when I die

Directed & Edited by Mike Gill
Shot by Mike Gill & Mike Ragone
Additional aerial footage by Mitchell Martinez