[Verse 1] Old brown bag on the backseat floor Crushed receipts and a cracked keychain Polaroid bent at the corner Your laugh caught in the grain [Chorus] Old brown bag Holds the days we swore were nothing Ticket stubs and summer sand Old brown bag All the almosts All the maybes Folded up in my hands [Verse 2] Coffee stain in the ink of your name Dried wildflower pressed in a page Map of a town we never made Still marked in neon-orange rage [Chorus] Old brown bag Holds the days we swore were nothing Ticket stubs and summer sand Old brown bag All the almosts All the maybes Folded up in my hands [Bridge] I should clean it out But I keep it by the door Like you might come back Digging for something you left before [Chorus] Old brown bag Holds the days we swore were nothing Ticket stubs and summer sand Old brown bag All the almosts All the maybes Folded up in my hands (in my hands)
