Hey, Dianne, could you pick up the phone? I know that you're listening. Baby, I know that you're home and I know where I went wrong. Don't you leave me alone. Could you pick up the phone? I'm lost at a truck stop somewhere in the South. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm figuring it out. I locked myself in this phone booth; read you the number aloud. Now, I'm waiting it out. If I lay here long enough, maybe the bugs will eat me whole. If I stay here long enough maybe the night could take me home. I won't let go, even if you say so. No, I won't let go. Hey, Dianne, I've been trying to quit. I went from a pack and a half a day to this e-cigarette bullshit. It don't give me what I want but it stops them coughing fits. Oh, I know how you hate it. Hey, Dianne, I know I fucked up. It's just when we lost the baby, I kind of shut off. I know I never listened. I wasn't there for you enough. I'm a fuck up. I had a dream I flew back North and the plane went down before we hit New York. You didn't come to the funeral. I hope you'd come to the funeral.