• Songwriter: Jeremy Kaplan

Don't talk -- listen for the sound
The trains, the planes high above the ground
You grew up tall, and you grew up right
But those Indiana nights don't mean you're really out of sight

Watching people up flirting walking down the street
It's the quickest way to get a mother off his feet
You can hang with the best
But now, boy, look around
There's no one here but me and your old man's in town

It gets better, boy
Carry that weight
A pretender leaves nothing but hate
You'll defend her but it's too late
It gets better, better than great

Coming and a-going like it's all the rage
Consider how the story's jumping off the page
But yes, I believe you know it to be true
That this rebel kind of life is not the one for you
Spitting like a seagull boy with no regrets
Your suburban life just couldn't pay off all of your debts
Time after time, and still you don't have a clue
'Cause you don't think that it be like it is, but it do

It gets better, boy
Carry that weight
A pretender leaves nothing but hate
You'll defend her but it's too late
It gets better, better than great

If just by chance, a happenstance,
The stars align and it gets better
It's the storm of dirty days
They give way to clearer weather
An empty gaze, a drunker haze
They can't erase our time together
You and I, we live a lie
Ride or die, we'll never sever