Three years on the local circuit
Played twice at the county fair
And the second time, Ben, our friend who worked the business end
Said a guy from a label was there
There were two more like him at the next show
Staring us down like hawks


And there was love in the air, and all the money was there
And we were going on tour


With Candlebox
Candlebox


All the free acid-washed blue jeans
You could ever want underneath the bus
Sound guy, schedule guy, driver
Three bunks left for us
You sleep like a baby when you're still young
And dumber than a bag of rocks


Twenty-five tight minutes, seven nights a week
Eight weeks without a break



For Candlebox
Candlebox


Together in the tents at the festivals
Running out of things to say
This is how we build a fanbase, fellas
We'll be in the headline slot someday (We'll be in the headline slot someday)




Whole team full of Roman accountants
At their desks the day Hannibal crossed
You wouldn't even believe me
If I told you what the video cost
Windswept silence at the henhouse
Nobody's catching up with the fox


But if we ever find Ben, we'll probably do it again like we were young men
As we were then


With Candlebox
Candlebox
Candlebox